Blood Rain
by Darksuns-Moon
Summary: The middle of a cold, hard war against North and South elves. Romano and Spain find a love that blooms between them as their two lands fall into a terrible long battle. But they must first see past their prejudice and stubborn pride in order to survive together. Has many couples inside, but Romano and Spain is the main couple.
1. Chapter 1: The declaration

I know I'm not really good at writing stuff, probably because I don't read that many books. But my sister inspired me to write. Her story is totally awesome

s/8764074/1/Built-Upon-the-Snow

Okay, so with that out of the way, I'm going to try very hard to write this and hopefully finish it. I wanted to write a story with Spain and Romano, but I honestly could not think of a plot so I decided to write where they are elves in a realm from a story my sister and I are writing, I hope it works. So this is an AU (I guess) and I'll try to keep them in character.

Couples planned so far:

Spain (South Elf) / Romano (North/South Elf)

Germany (North Elf) / Italy (South/North Elf)

Prussia (North elf) / Ukraine (North Elf)

Russia (North Elf) / America (East Elf)

Austria (South Elf) / Hungry (West Elf)

Denmark (North Elf) / Norway (South Elf)

China (South Elf) / Canada (East Elf)

Sweden (North Elf) / Finland (East Elf)

More will be added later XD

* * *

So this is what his birthplace looked like? The grass stood tall with a mixture of wildflowers around his feet. Trees in the distance still bared green leaves and the birds chirped happy songs while they flew around in the clear sky. It was hard to believe that the picture of 'paradise' was a day ride away from the frozen and bitter cold he grew up in. Romano wrapped his arms around himself and looked around for his brother then down at the letter he still clenched in his hand. It must have been a joke, with all the pleas to see him, it would not surprise him. It was a taunt at the least. Why would he wish to see him after they were separated for seven years?

He shook his head and started to head back north when he heard a call from the forest. A young elf stood between two trees and waved frantically. His short reddish brown hair blew in the calm wind and he had a large smile upon his face. "Romano! Is that you?!"

The young elf started to run over with wide strides, almost like a prance through the sea of flowers, and stopped in front of him with the same stupid grin on his face. "It is you!"

"Yeah, you wrote to me. What is so damn important that you had to see me today?" he said with irritation since he had to get questioned by a million people about where he was going before they let him leave alone. He didn't feel that he was asking for too much when he hoped that it was life or death and not just 'I wanted to see you after seven years of no contact'. His little brother's smile faded a little and he looked lost for words. He did tell him to come just to talk. "What did you want to talk about?" He tired to hold back his annoyance, but some managed to slip.

"I just thought we should talk after all this time and I have some big news I thought I'd share, but that can wait. Tell me how the north is?" he said, overjoyed, and flopped down with a thud. "Is it as bad as people say it is?"

"Pretty much." He didn't really wish to discuss his home, especially to Italy. Not with his cheerful personality and unawareness of other people's feelings. He remembered that much about him. How he always bragged about their grandfather's praise to him while Romano was ignored and shunned by the South elves who thought they knew better. "Just tell me the news is so I can go back home."

He jumped to his feet and dusted his rear before he looked up at him with a head tilt. "I actually have two news I wanted to tell, but one is bad news so I don't really want to tell it." His golden eyes trailed off to the side where trees shook in the sudden burst of wind and watched them sadly. As Romano waited impatiently for his brother to say something he stared off and bite his lip a little. Italy was again lost for words, but wasn't sure why. He figured he'd already have the whole thing planned out before he even wrote to him. The warm breeze slipped around them, distracting him. It gently caressed his face and carried the smell of wilderness with it. It was more refreshing then the smell of smoke and coal. "Grandpa died two years ago. That is the bad news. He wanted you to be there, but since your were banished to the mountains to live with those scary northerners, we couldn't get a hold of you and I only recently found where your home was."

"What?!" he whispered almost breathlessly. The thought itself was hard to believe, but to actually hear it from Italy of all people seemed to be too unreal. Their grandfather always seemed immortal with his youthful persona. No, it had to be a joke or to give him a reason to go home. It had to be it. But the tears in Italy's eyes as he nodded slowly put doubt in his mind. His brother would never lie. Not that kind of lie. "He died? How?"

"I don't know. He just got sick and died. I'm not sure why or how, but he told me to find you and tell you before he passed away." He wiped his eyes and sniffed. His eyes were puffy and his nose had a little red from where he rubbed under it with his coat sleeve. He looked terrible. But if he had been alone for two years, he imagined the loss of the person who cooed over you your whole life was hard. "But I do have some good news! Let's talk about that instead, okay?"

"Sure, whatever. What is the good news?" He stuck his hands in his deep coat pockets and waited to hear this so called 'good news'. To Italy it could have been that he tied his shoelaces on his own. He was surprised when the first thing he said was he was engaged to a childhood friend. "What? You are getting married? To who?"

"I cannot tell you now. It's a secret engagement. But I thought I'd warn you and let you know we are getting married by the end of the year and I want you to come." His smile returned and his eyes were now just slightly red and watery. The thought of an engagement seemed to cheer him up; whoever he was betrothed to must have made him very happy. Romano nodded and looked toward the flowers to his left with worry. The thought of his little baby brother marrying someone he never met…it felt wrong. He needed to know who it was and make sure they did not plan to hurt him. Much like the flowers on the hilltop, Italy was defenseless against the bitter cold. But he wanted to make sure he would be well off, even if he was never to be part of his life. Soon the conversation went from marriage to food while Romano's empty stomach growled with every mention of the Southern foods and dessert. Italy paused and blinked a little while he looked up at him then he grinned again. "Would you like to eat something? I brought some food."

"No. I should probably head back anyway. It'll take me another day to get home and I have work to do tomorrow, so the sooner the better. Goodbye." He patted his shoulder and moved away before he could be hugged by his little brother and jogged back to the woods. He looked back when he got there to see Italy still standing on the hill with his arms wrapped around himself. He waved at him then continued through the woodland until he found his blue roan horse and mounted him. The ride back to the mountain was harsh and the snow became higher and higher with each hour. The village at the bottom the mountain was just seen in the distance and by nightfall he could see the church tower beyond the treetops. He petted his horse's neck and shifted on his back. His southern blood always kept him from fully adjusting to the weather. But no matter how many cold winters he faced and trialed, he could never go back to their land and pretend to be one of them. He was too different, had too much of his father's blood in him and despite their insults he was proud of who he was.

"I see someone decided to take forever to 'hunt'. Just what were you doing really?" Prussia stood in his path with one hand on his hip and the other on his sword handle with that stupid cocky smirk on his face. "I figured you headed back to your stupid bare-eared southern idiots. Did they kick you out again and told you to enjoy your icey, poor prison while they sip on fancy tea and eat cakes?" His red eyes looked up at him and watched him with some amusement. A chill went down his spine as he kept his eye contact. But Romano did not show his emotion.

"Shut up, you bastard. I _was_ out hunting."

"Oh? Then I guess that huge mass on your horse's back is your catch? Hmm…No, it is just your backside." His laugher slowly faded into the distance as they walked in opposite directions. Romano growled under his breath and made his horse walk faster to the town. He made it to the house just after midnight and put his horse in the stable and petted his neck. At least he did not judge him and actually liked his company. When the horse nestled down in the hay, he lay against his side and pulled a tattered blanket over himself. He fell asleep quickly and was only awaken when he heard shots and calls outside. He propped himself up and squinted at the white shine that burst through the open gate. After he forced himself up he walked out and he looked around at a herd of people around the stables. A tall northerner stood on a crate and started to hand out papers. When Romano walked over to check it out, he was handed a long rolled memo. Inside were just four words in big black bold letter: It's time for war. Signed by their ruler. He frowned and clenched the paper tightly. It was against the south and possibly everybody.

-X-

"So those animals up north have been acting strange lately? Doesn't seem too new." Austria looked across the table to Spain, who had his hands rested on either side of the map. He sighed and looked at him after he examined the routes from the mountains to their city and bit his lip with the possible entries. It was troublesome. "What do we do, Spain?"

"The northerners have countless ways to attack. But the main trouble is they don't invade people. They just make us wary, so wary that we attack them and fight in their cold mountains. We freeze to death before we actually see any battle; they rush down to our defenseless homes and take over." The other elf nodded solemnly as he walked along the long table to Spain's side and looked at the map. He traced his finger along an old mining trail that led straight up to the heart of their thrown together village where hundreds of north elves stayed. "You suggest attacking their village?"

Austria picked the chart up and folded it neatly and looked at Spain over his glasses. "Do we have any other choice?" The older man walked to a shelf and shuffled through scrolls and blew the dust off. "We will stay calm and act as if nothing is wrong. We'll work on our defenses and be prepared. In the meantime I want you to take a few men and go check out just what they are up to. Go tomorrow and report back the day after."

"And what if I get caught?"

"Let's pray to the heavens that you do not." He walked out and left Spain in the empty room with his orders echoing in his mind. It was a suicide mission and he had to be the one picked to do it. He had to make the most of what time he had there before he was sent off. He wanted to make sure his love knew he may never return. Passed the cheerful people through the endless hall, he finally made it to the bedroom. After a few knocks he was welcomed in and he entered and leaned back against the door.

"Italy, my love. I need to tell you something."

* * *

A crappy way to end the first Chapter, but oh well. I just hope it isn't boring. I'm kind of meh about it but I hope people like it. I'll make a cover for it later DX

By the way, I put people in the East, West, South and North armies by personality. So that is why, it has nothing to do with where they are from. XD and sorry if there are misspellings


	2. Chapter 2: The beginning of war

Thanks sis for reviewing this ^-^ I'm glad you like it and yes, a lot of trouble will come later.

And to all the people who follow and favor this, I'm very grateful and I hope I do not disappoint you guys.

We get more of point of views in this one. Yay!

* * *

Italy turned away from the desk he stood at and watched Spain with interest as he fluttered his eyes in curiosity. "Yes, Spain?" He sounded soft and concerned; it made it more difficult to warn him of his possible death mission. Spain sighed and walked over to him and brushed his fiancée's loose hair behind his long, faintly fur-covered ears before he rested his hands on his sloped shoulders. "Spain?"

"I will be going on a mission tomorrow." Italy's eyes widened and he started to speak when he quickly interrupted him. "I'll be back by tomorrow. You won't be alone for long, my sweet flower." He embraced him and brushed back his soft reddish hair. A lie told and never discovered was better than putting worry in his beloved. He made a promise to himself that he'd never leave Italy alone after his grandfather died. All the tears and heartbreak he endured after that tragedy, he couldn't leave him alone to face the cruelty again. Italy cheered up quickly and started to clean up the cluttered desk and made the bed before he begun to wash the windows and floors. Spain watched him with a smile and leaned back against the hard stone wall. His love hummed softly as the crisp spring breeze carried a sweet smell of flowers along and the golden sun peered through the white curtains and shined heavenly on him. "When I get back I want to marry you."

The golden eyes stared at him in surprise and he stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. "But that is not enough time to plan a wedding, silly. You can wait until the end of the year." He continued his cleaning and got back on his knees to scrub the polished stone floors. He shook his head and walked to him, grabbed his pink hands, and pulled him up to his feet.

"No one knows of our engagement, so it does not matter when we get married. I do not want to see you a servant to this castle any longer, Italy."

"But I told my brother we'd get married at the end of the year and he plans to come."

Spain froze and squeezed his wrists a little. "You spoke with Romano? I thought you said you left to get ingredients Austria requested." He let go quickly when Italy winced it pain and quickly put his hands on either side of his love's waist. "You know it is dangerous to go anywhere near the North let alone talk to a northerner." He held his hand up to Italy's lips when he started to look as if he was to argue with him and shook his head. "We were forbidden to speak with him. We have to follow that one rule. That is it, Italy, just that simple rule. Please marry me when I come back?"

"Alright." He smiled and removed his hands from his waist and turned to his work. He carried on as if they never had an unpleasant discussion and hummed loudly. Spain was sure that was what he loved about him. The cheerful and childish nature that he carried about him despite his position in the world was something he admired. He stepped over the water puddles and laughed a little with the amount of water his beloved left on his bedroom floor. "What will you do on this mission?"

"Uh…Just checking the border of our lands to make sure the north is not planning something. It should be safe." He smiled at him, though he felt like he had to force it. The more lies he told, the more afraid he was that he would not return. Never see the southern festival, the wedding garments lying on the back of the work chair and the body of his love bare in the moonlight. The more he thought of what he'd miss and the dangers of the North Mountains the more he felt the urge to refuse the job and run away into a village in the forest and live the rest of his days with Italy. He didn't need any more than that. "Italy. Can you come to my home tonight?"

He looked up at him with a wide grin and nodded before he returned to his work. Spain took some papers off the desk and maneuvered across the mess to the door. His love continued the work with joy in his eyes. He closed the door quietly and made his way through the busy hall and the loud laugher and dancing elves in the courtyard. They celebrated the day of their lands rebirth and all partied on the holiday. Except the north, who did not receive a gift from the heavens. It was a great disgrace to anticipate a prize without working for it.

He looked back up at the window and smiled to see Italy looking down at him with a wide smile. Spain turned and headed back to his home carved into a large tree and walked down the grassed pathway to the red wood door. He went inside and started to clean up the random papers off his desk and remake his twin-sized bed. The time passed slowly once he cleaned and rearranged his make-shift home. The sun started to set and shined a pink and purple glow into the dull and colorless room. Songs and laughter were heard outside and the sounds of joy and harmony echoed in the house and put a smile on his face. The freedom of his people and the power to keep that happiness among the village and city was what kept him from retreating away from war. Death was worth it when others did not have to face the torment. A knock on the door soon interrupted his thoughts and he quickly looked over. "Come in."

Italy skipped in happily and walked in front of him on the couch and handed him a plate of bread and deer meat. "What did you want to talk about, Spain?" He made himself comfortable at his side and snuggled up against the back cushions.

"I just wanted to see you, Italy. I was hopping you'd stay the night here." He turned to him and set the plate down on the stump table and took his love's hand. "I want to be with you before I had to leave." He smiled at him and got in return bright, beaming eyes that stared up at him and a small, innocent kiss on the lip. The gentle touch of Italy's flesh against his sent a shiver through his body and a hand that guided his to Italy's soft sensitive ear invited him to rub it and he got a quiet moan that vibrated in his mouth. He pulled the small elf into his lap and held him close against him and their heartbeats matched in a perfect rhythm. They stayed together for the rest of the warm night.

-X-

Between the sound of carts and horses plowing through the small village, the knocks on the front door almost seemed too quiet to be heard. Spain threw the covers off in aggravation but paused when he heard the peaceful mumble of his bed partner. He slept quietly next to him and snuggled deep into the bed with the white knitted bed cover wrapped around his head like a hood. He smiled and turned to his attention to the door. The knocks didn't stop and whoever stood on the opposite door seemed just as annoyed as he was. He dressed in his day clothes and opened the door to see an irritated China. "So you are up. Ugh, do you have any idea how long I stayed up waiting for you?"

"What are you doing here?"

He let out a deep sigh and fixed his long sleeves before he decided to acknowledge him. "Were you not ordered to go out and get information? Because I was told that you, Norway and I were to go north." Spain looked back at the sleeping Italy then let out a heavy breath with a nod. He slipped back into the house and got his sword and armor before he followed China to the horses with Norway already mounted on a big dapple one. The brown and black horses next to him where large as well and covered in a fluffy coat. They were northern horses, branded with the north mark and equipped with black leather saddles and matching bridle.

"I don't want to know how you two got those, do I?" He climbed on the black steed with help from China. Norway sat up proudly, but seemed content on not answering him. His other companion shared his attitude. They rode off toward the bitter North to face either a glorious victory or a horrendous failure. The trip was quiet and as they made it toward the mountain the frozen, dry air hit him like a blunt arrow. His body shook and trembled but he found comfort in his warm stallion's neck and thick mane. The sun did not shine and grey clouds always loomed in the sky that was once crystal clear.

Norway pulled out three thick black pelts and handed them to China and Spain. They wrapped themselves up and slipped their arms through the fur sleeves and pulled the animal heads over their own to hide and protect their bare ears. Once they reached the mine trail it was quiet and not a sound was heard. No clatter of teeth or huffs from their warm-blooded rides. Once it started to get dark, fires were seen in the near village. Children and women stepped out of their paths and Norway whacked his shoulder to get his attention before handing him the news that confirmed their fear. "They plan to start a war."

"With who?" China leaned over and took the paper.

"With us, more than likely." He looked around them at the suspicious faces of the wild northern elves. "Let's go back." He turned them around and forced their horsed to trot out of the village. It was quite again. The other two looked at each other with a sense of foreboding before two large men snatched them off their horses. A tall blond man jumped out of nowhere and knocked Spain off with a large branch. It sent him tumbling down the snowy mountain side into a patch of rocks. The clouds blurred into one mass of gray and the last thing he heard was the slurred scream of Norway.

-X-

"My ruler, Invading other kingdoms, let alone _all_ of them, is stupid. If you want my opinion—"

"If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it, Prussia. But since I didn't ask I suggest you keep that big mouth of yours shut." Russia spoke calmly and stood to walk down the steps to him, giving him is sickening evil smile. "But if you don't want to be a part of this, I can get rid of you now."

Prussia took a step away from him as quickly as he could and forced himself to bow to hide his anger and fear. "I don't know about you, Prussia. But I think it is about time we put those people in their place. They always laugh at us and treat us like a disease while they sit around in their warm homes and richly built castle." He looked up at him to see the violet eyes wondering off to the far off distance and his villainous smile vanished. "My people are dying. I think it's time that they felt the sting of frostbite." He slid his pale finger down his tongue and a thin layer of ice followed and cover it to the tip. Prussia shivered as the purple eyes looked at him. "Are you afraid?"

"No. I think we should go to battle for our people." He talked quietly and stood straight to look at Russia's face. His grin returned and he motioned for him to leave with his fingers then turned to the double doors at the far side of the room and walked out, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. Prussia headed out the grey rock doors and stopped at his brother carrying a small, dark-haired elf. "What is this?"

There was some silence and when no response came he whacked his arm hard. His brother growled and looked at him. "There was some southerners here, they probably heard of the declaration of war and wanted to see our plans." Germany dropped the small elf in a pile of hay and pulled a bloody pelt over him.

"What the hell happened?"

"We had to get rough to stop them. Denmark has the other one, but I wouldn't trust him. He was talking about cute he was and how he needed a rich spouse." He stood up straight and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't look like he wanted to talk about it, but he wondered if it was just two elves. When he asked, his little brother frowned and looked to the side. "No. There were three, but Sweden hit him off his horse and we were not sure where he landed. He said he was going to look for him, but he kept going into the woods. I think he's up to something."

"Yeah, sure he is." He looked down at the small unconscious young man and shook his head as the little thing breathed heavy and shivered even under the thick fur. "Put him in the stables and warm him up."

Prussia turned the opposite direction and walked down the uneven rock pathway along the town. The people coughed and hadn't bathed in years; some haven't been clean since birth. Black smudges marked their faces and their hair hung down to the lower backs in tangles. He stopped in front of the palace wall with the names of the dead carved into the black stone. His father's name still stood proud among the line of royals and guardians of their frozen prison. The people never knew the rightful rulers. The ones that should have taken the throne.

"Prussia, there you are." Ukraine walked to his side and watched him. Her eyes hid sadness behind them and she bit her lip and looked to the side. "I am leaving."

"Leaving? Where?" He quickly turned to her and started to grab her trembling hands but she moved them away and pressed the back of one against her chapped lips. "Well, fine. If you wish to abandon us to live in some warm land with arrogant people, than farewell. We won't miss you, Princess."

"Don't be an asshole in our last discussion, Prussia. I know that is not you. Goodbye." She wrapped her torn shawl around her shoulders and gave him a quick, warm kiss on his cheek. She hurried away and disappeared around the corner. He clenched his fist and turned back to the wall, wanting so badly to punch it despite the broken hand he'd get out of it. The cold chill that caressed his face always reminded him of his inescapable punishment and he went back to his walk along the village. When everybody went to bed toward midnight he sat down on a crate of coal and brushed back his tainted white hair, stained by the black rock and smoke. The smell of burnt bodies lingered in the air and filled his lungs. It sickened him to no end and the thought of the south enjoying their rich life and laughing at their poverty made him take back his protest against war. It was their time to feel the sting of the hard snow and breathe in the waste and ash. It was time for war.

"It's time for bed, brother." Germany walked over and stood at his side with his hands rested on his hips. "Are you alright?"

He rested his chin on the back of his locked fingers and watched the bodies' burn across the road. His jaw tightened with every flicker of the flames. "I want to kill every southerner I see."

"I think a lot of us feel that way, brother. Come on." He patted his shoulder and headed to the house where all the soldiers slept. He followed shortly after and lay down in the straw bed under his brother's. He closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep before the loud bursts of snow and wind hit him through the cracks in the wall and kept him from sleeping.

-X-

Romano sat down in the hay next to his horse and watched the knocked out southern elf. Blood dripped from his short brown hair and his furless ears were smudged with blood and were pink and reddish in spots. He slide closer slowly and held his shovel in case the trespasser decided to escape. He jumped at every creak and shook his head. He knew he shouldn't have dragged the fat ass to the stables. He quickly looked back at him when he heard a long groan. "What are you doing here, bastard?"

"Wha…?" He propped himself up and stared at him with squinted eyes then he paused and frowned. "Italy? No…Romano."

"How do you know Italy?" He poked the man's temple with the shovel and watched him carefully. His face looked familiar, but he didn't have many southern friends. He must have been one who shunned him. "You have a lot of guts coming here, you know. Cold-blooded monsters like you usually freeze before they make it as far as you did."

The stranger laughed and looked at him. "Says the one living with the thieving, disgusting, stubborn monsters who feel like they should have everything they want without working for it."

Romano glared at him and jabbed his ear with the cold metal. "I'd be careful what I called my people while you're at _my_ mercy, idiot. Now what are you doing here?" He took a minute to respond but he pulled himself up against a stack of hay and looked at him.

"I'm just here to see what your people are planning. Now will you let me go?"

"No." He stood up and kept his defensive weapon at his side and watched him carefully. "Who are you? Since you know my name I think I should know yours."

"It is Spain."

Romano stiffened and stared at him with wide eyes. The named echoed in his head, but he found it hard to believe the man he used to love thought so badly of him.

* * *

Yeah, that's it for now. Sorry that my chapters are so short. I'll hopefully get longer ones when the crap really hits the fan.

And another note, that I was tired when I re-read this so if I missed some mistakes, that's why. I also hope I'm doing a good job writing everybody, because I love all of them and I wouldn't want to screw up and upset people.


	3. Chapter 3: Regrets and misunderstandings

I updated the first two chapters and my sister edited it and I feel like such an idiot that I posted with so many mistakes. Makes since why this thing isn't popular. XD

Again, thanks for reviewing my work, sis, I'm so happy to get reviews and it helps me want to write another chapter :D. And thanks a bunch to the people following this despite the really bad grammar. I'll improve and hopefully this story will be good.

* * *

Spain sat quietly against the pile of hay and rubbed the back of his head. His eyes were unconcerned and an unfeeling aura surrounded him as he picked the loose straw off his clothes and hair. Romano growled and walked around him back to his horse and petted it. "Spain, huh? I guess the southern attitude rubbed off on you too." He crouched down and set the shovel down at his side. "What will you do now that you know what my people are planning?"

"Defend my home. That is all I can do." He leaned back and winced in pain before he pushed himself up on his bloodstained hands. His gaze was harsh and full of prejudice. "What do you plan to do with me? Keep me in this place until I freeze to death or are you just going to kill me now?"

Romano thought for a moment of the possible choices and glanced at him. "If I was going to just kill you, I would have left your fat ass in the snow."

Spain didn't say anything and his eyes drifted off to the horses around them and his mouth curved up into an untrustworthy smile as he slowly forced his legs to stand. Romano didn't trust him and even more so with the stupid smile on his face. He limped to the gate of a stall and petted the dun horse that offered her head to him. He petted her snout calmly, humming a happy soft song. His hand trailed up and down her neck and brushed back her mane.

"If you are planning on befriending her to ride her, you are wasting your time." Romano flopped back against his stallion's side. "She is already owned and unlike your southern horses, they only have one master." Spain slowly stopped and turned to him with a grin. He shrugged him off and walked back to the hay bed and huddled up. The chilly wind slipped through the holes and cracks of the shelter and sent shivers and trembles through his small body.

The difference from winter to spring was less snow, but the ice and bitter nights still stayed. Hail and gusts of ice shards often killed small children if the cold itself did not. The south never felt such hardships, their winters were adored and people enjoyed the soft white power on their ground. They always bragged endlessly about their wonderful spring and breathtaking winter while the north never saw a patch of grass or a flower, even on the warmest day of spring.

The rest of the night was quiet and Romano tied his captive up against a wood post and tied the remaining rope to his horse's neck. "If you manage to get out of that, Shadow will keep you here." He rested against Shadow's side and pulled the tattered blanket over himself. His prisoner decided to be a bastard and talk all during the night about the south's history and some strange fruit that he enjoyed very much. Romano closed his eyes tightly and tried to ignore the talking man. Spain wanted to keep him up and he did not want to bring him any pleasure. Finally when the early sun gave some light to the village, he forced himself up and groaned. He was stilled tired and the southern elf was fast asleep though he swore he could still hear him speak. "Bastard."

"Romano. It is time to get up." Sweden walked into the stables and glanced around him. "Our ruler wants his horse brought to him soon." Then he left, the clicking of his boots hitting the stone road slowly fading away in the distance and the sound of the early morning workers groans as they carried heavy loads of coal soon followed. Romano stepped over Spain to get to the large black and white horse. The stallion stood tall and proud and the thick blank mane covered his violet eyes. They matched his masters.

"You must be a demon horse." He tacked up the giant and tried to maneuver him around Spain's legs and out the gate. Russia stood outside the castle entrance with that unnatural smile. The stallion jerked free from Romano's hands and trotted to his master. Their ruler mounted and looked down at Romano. "Be quicker next time." He made his horse gallop out of the village and down the mountain side. He wondered where he was in such a hurry to get to, but just shrugged it off and walked back into the stable. His captive still slept calmly against the post and Romano felt the urge to wake him up and speak endlessly about the many shapes of rocks that could be found around their homes. It probably stood the same amount of interest to Spain as to the stupid fruits and history to him.

He worked around the heavy sleeper. He cleaned the stalls, swept the rock floor and carted around a heavy wheelbarrow back and forth. After two hours of cursing, he was convinced the man was faking his sleep to taunt him. Evil bastard. His work was finished by noon and the smell of foul meat drifted into the building and made him feel sick. He went out to the building where they received their lunch and grimaced when the big hairy chef dumped a ladle full of meat chunks and random body parts into his bowl, such as the eye that floated around. He held back his vomit and forced himself to take a bite. He couldn't complain, though he wanted to. People who did often ended up in the next stew. He really didn't like the thought of one of them sucking on his eye while they stirred around his body parts.

"Well, someone looks like they didn't get any sleep." Denmark smiled and sat down across from him at the rotted table. He never seemed to care what they were forced to consume, as long as he was fed. Romano couldn't bring himself to even think of liking the disgusting horrors that came from the pot. "Did you hear about the stupid southerners who came here? Three of them, I think."

"I heard. The people around the stables like to gossip during first break. What about it?" Romano hoped he didn't spot him lugging off an unconscious elf through the knee-deep snow.

Denmark shrugged and took a bite. "I saw you dragging a guy into the stables by his leg last night. But since I didn't see him leave, I'm not going to bother telling anyone. Finders, keepers, right? I kept one myself. I had to knock him out a few times during the night, but he's nice to look at."

"I'm not sure why you think I care, but whatever." He waved him off and pushed the bowl away. He didn't feel hungry. The eye that spun and bounced around did quick work of his appetite. "I don't really care if you tell anyone. I'd much rather get the pain in the ass out of my hair, anyway." He stood and slipped passed the hungry workers back to his stables. The post stood bare and Shadow was nowhere to be found. He groaned, snatched his fur cloak and walked out the backdoor to follow the tracks. They led him into the dark, dead woods. The aggravated growls and calls to 'come on' led him to the border of the woods where Spain tried to pull Shadow across the road to the mine trail. Romano, though pissed and annoyed himself, decided to get some satisfaction by the elf trying to get away. Shadow backed away from him when he went to him and followed him back to the edge of the road.

"You are just like your stubborn master," Spain growled and leaned back against a tree and sighed heavily. His frozen breath thickened with every irritated huff. "I just want to return home."

"Well, you never should have come here, idiot. Now you'll have to pay the price. Come on." Romano walked over and grabbed the rope and led the two back toward the stables. "I told you Shadow would keep you here. Now don't be stupid again and just be happy I haven't decided to give you to someone to play with." He forced Spain to sit back down and wrapped him up in his coat and shook his head. He shivered and pulled it closer to himself. He wasn't bad when he laid there and kept his mouth shut. "Stay." The order didn't seem to set well with the other and he could care less at that point. He tired his horse to the post as well to prevent another attempted escape. Next time he'd let the jerk freeze and let the horse drag his body back. He walked around the sour-faced man as he worked on the horses.

"Why do you look up to the people here?"

He tossed hay in a stall that was to be his prisoner's new bed. "Because at least they took me in and didn't decide to banish me because of my mixed blood and I can relate to them. Not being accepted by anyone else because of their 'undesirable' appearance."

"That is not why we do not like them! They are thieving, murderous and war-hunger monsters who feel they should have everything handed to them." Spain shared his glare and he broke away when Romano tossed a piece of coal at him. "Ah!"

"You son of a bitch, you dare say that when it is _your_ kind that made us like this? We have no freedom, no other kingdom wishes to have us in their village. So don't you dare say anything!" He turned back to the stall and quickly made the bed then grabbed a bucket. "I'm going back to work. Enjoy your stupid bed." He walked out quickly to the well in the center of the town. The icy water splashed and dripped as he carried it to the different workers to cook food or to drink. The rest of his chores seemed to blur together like any other day and it was soon dark again. People whispered of their ruler's fleeing as he walked back into the stables. He half expected the bastard to be gone, but to his surprise he was cleaning a stall.

"This place is dirty. Don't you clean it?"

"Shut up, you idiot. I cleaned it this morning." He lay down next to his horse and wrapped his torn blanket around himself. "If you talk and keep me up again, I'm throwing your ass out in the snow." It was silent for the rest of the night. It was bliss.

-X-

"So you will join me in this fight?" Russia walked toward the bloody Turkey as he crawled back away from him. His face was terrified and dripped with blood. He nodded quickly and pressed back against a tree and wiped his face. Russia smiled widely and patted his blood covered pipe against his palm. He always got bored with the ones who gave in after a few blows to the face. But he did not always like to do it the hard way, though it was fun at times. "Good. Then I'll expect you to give me all of your soldiers when I decide to battle." He knelt down in front of the shaking new ally and fixed his broken mask. "Do not be scared, you only have a reason to be afraid if you wrong me. Then I'd kill you slowly and painfully," he said as if he was delivering good news and headed back to his horse with an ice trail behind. He never minded the cold, the feel of the northern air. But his people's starvation and unhealthy lives made the war worth it. The image of Austria's face frozen and his body consumed in ice always was a happy thought when he doubted his decision.

"Come, Sarion. Let's go back home." He motioned for his horse to follow him and walked out of the black forest of the west kingdom and back toward his blissful snowed home. The screams of horror and cries of pain as they found their beaten master echoed out of the woods. People of the west were never much different than his when it came to loyalty, but they were accepted by the south and heaven instead of his. They were all banished to live in the mountains to pay for their greed and rage and die out along with them.

Until now. It was time to dig his people out and raise them far above the south. That was his goal and he planned to succeed. To be respected and be more than an equal but be a ruler to all. Not a co-ruler. To rule the four kingdoms and bring his people to the lands of warmth and harvest. A loud whistle reverberated around the empty valley and he stopped in his tracks. He assumed they were using their dark magic. A grin crossed his lips as he turned to the woods. They were angry, but he didn't care. They wouldn't be in his way for long. He continued down his path and mounted his horse when he reached the snowy path up to his village.

He reached the town by early morning and handed his horse to Sweden before he walked up the metal steps inside his cold castle. He paused at Ukraine at the side of his throne and smiled. "I see you have returned, sister."

"Yes, brother. Please sit." She motioned to the coal seat that was covered in stitched pillows. "I wish to speak with you."

He slowly walked across the room and sat down. She quickly got down on her knees next to his leg and rested her hands on it. "Please take back your plan to go to war; it will only kill innocent people if not yourself. I—" He grabbed her jaw to quiet her and burned her with his cold touch.

"No."

"You cannot kill your future brother-in-law." She looked up at him, a tear sliding down her pale cheek. "I offered myself to Austria and he agreed. It is law that you cannot kill family." She pried his hand off her jaw and rubbed the red on her face. "Brother, I—"

Russia stood up and watched as his older sister fell down to the stone floor. "He is not my family." He walked down toward the double doors and ignored his sister's calls and cries. He did not wish to hurt her but he wouldn't let one marriage stop him. He went inside and closed the doors tightly at his final freedom. His empty double bed did not invite him; he walked to the balcony and stared up at the clouded sky. No star was seen, they were fogged out of heavens sight. But soon he'd free his people and show their worth to the land and beyond, passed the wide unclaimed seas.

He looked down at the bloodstained bar he still held firmly and wiped the mess off before tossing the weapon back into his room. He felt a sharp pain in his chest and put his hand against it to feel the wetness of blood. He went back in his room and stripped from his coat and shirt and wiped the blood away from an uninjured chest. That was the forbidden magic of the westerners. So he really did anger them.

He cleaned away the blood and slid his finger over his heart, the stained skin numbed against the ice he left over it. He walked to his bed and climbed in to sleep. He drifted off quickly and was awakened in the morning by constant knocks on his door and the voice of his baby sister begging him to get up and be with her. He shivered and looked at the door with narrowed his eyes. After an hour, she gave up and left. Russia came out later and went into the strategy room with a smile. "Prussia. I want you to gather up as many soldiers you can from here and the west. We'll get ready to attack by the end of the month."

Prussia frowned at him and bowed in respect before he left. The others who stood in the room were Germany and his older sister, Ukraine. She looked saddened and shook her head at him before she followed Prussia. Germany left shortly after. Russia walked to the table and stared down at the map with a frown. The battle had to be fought in the south land this time, where the advantage would be Austria's.

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Yeah, I know I write short chapters, but I promise they will get longer.

Hope you like it and I hope I did a good job with Russia, he is so hard. DX and I don't think Turkey is a wussy or anything, I'd be pretty afraid too if I got beat up by a pipe too.


	4. Chapter 4: Poor decisions

I feel so stupid! I was so tired after I posted my chapter that I forgot to add the bar between the notes and the story. I'll be sure to remember next time. So sorry, everybody.

**Alice Vargas:** I'm not really sure what Romano is going to do next because he doesn't seem to tell me anything until it happens to him XD. So I guess we'll see. But thank you so much for reviewing.

**Scarlet daydreamer: **Thanks. I'll be sure to work very hard on my grammar so it won't be hard to read. That story sounds interesting; I'll have to look at it. I've never seen Engmano before XD.

**La'Keera:** Don't feel bad. I didn't think anything in this story would be funny so I'm pretty happy you think that was. Yay! I did Russia pretty well!

**silan haye: **Wow, thank you so much. I'm glad you think so =D. And a cookie for you, because there is something going on between Prussia and Ukraine.

The 3rd chapter has been edited.

We get to see some Italy POV and the start of a beautiful friendship with Germany XD

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"My ruler, Lieutenant Spain and Majors China and Norway have not returned," Italy heard a soldier whisper to master Austria before bowing and leaving the room. He felt his heart speed in panic at the thought of his beloved missing or killed. He slowly went down on his knees and stared at the stone wall with watering eyes. He didn't want to cry and even more so when his master was in the room. The strength he had to push himself up and hold back his outburst seemed to be all he had in him. The thought of picking up the rag to continue cleaning the windows felt like too much.

"Italy? Are you alright?" Austria walked up behind him and put his hand on his shoulder. That did it. Italy felt the sting of his tears again and cradled his head on his hands and cried into his palms. "Italy? What is the meaning of this?"

Words escaped him and all that he could see was Spain, dead in the tall grass of their lands or worse. In the pure white snow of the north, staining it with his blood. It hurt him. Deep inside his chest where his heart was, he could feel it breaking. He quickly turned to his master and pressed his soaked face against the soft fabric of his coat and prayed he'd not be pushed away. Austria wrapped his arms around him and he felt some comfort, but he still feared the worse outcome and it always brought on more tears. He looked up at his ruler and tried to talk through his sobs. "Spain. What happened to him? Is he dead? Do you know how?"

"I do not know, Italy. Do not ask so many questions at once." Austria coaxed him to sit down in a chair near the throne, ones that advisors sat in during meetings. "I imagine he was killed by a northerner when I sent him up to spy on them. I do believe I answered all of them. I'm sorry; I know he was a friend to you." Austria handed him a handkerchief and stood up straight. Italy collapsed against the back of the chair and stared down at the handed tissue. Spain had lied to him. He thought he was to check the border, not spy on those scary people. The pain returned and his eyes felt sore and burned. He always hated crying. "You can have the day off if you need."

He nodded without a word and stood up. As he made his way to the door he felt doubt rush through him. Deep down, he knew his love could not be dead and he was to bring him home. Even if he was dead, he'd bring his body back home to the peaceful and warm air. The thought of his own capture and murder left his train of thought when he imagined his beloved Spain back in his arms. He hurried down the empty hallway to his room and gathered up his warmest clothes, which weren't much but a coat with fur lining and a pair of fluffy white and grey boots.

Italy quickly put them on and pulled the hood over his head to cover his ears and walked down the stairs to the front of the castle. People wondered around outside to buy their daily food and clean up after the grand holiday. Servants did not get to celebrate it for they had to work inside, but the thought of their land being born against from war and greed was enough for him. Once he reached the stables he pulled out a pure white horse. He tacked it up and petted her neck as she neighed and clapped her hoof against the wooden floor.

"Carry me to the North and you shall be free, Nidia," he whispered and climbed on her back. They rode out toward the cold mountain and every hoof beat felt heavy in his chest and he wondered if it was such a good idea. The gusts of snowy wind hit him in the face as soon as he entered the northern lands. Their ground was uneven and disturbed and the sound of rocks falling could be heard behind him. But Italy ignored them the best he could and dismounted when the ground became too slanted upward. He led his horse passed the woods and cliffs until a town was seen in the far distance. Once he got close to the village, he let go of his horse and struggled through the knee-deep snow. His heart bounded with every step.

The elves in the town watched him and some stopped in their tracks at the sight of him, children ran and grabbed at his coat like they had never seen one before. Plans and ideas on how to find Spain seemed to disappear. Did he ever have one? He bit his lip and looked around him for a prison or, heaven forbid, a torture area. But all the buildings looked the same, built of coal and stones and so close to the other homes that they could have been the house if not for the two front doors. He stopped in his tracks when a large hand grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around to face a huge man. He stood a foot taller than Italy and was as broad as a horse.

"What are you doing here, southern scum? Walking in here like you own the place?"

"I—I'm looking for my fiancée. I don't mean any trouble." Italy spoke quickly and hoped the man would release him with that. But he didn't. The elf laughed and slammed him up against a hard wall, made of rock from the feel. He winced at impacted and grabbed the man's hand that was firmly around his neck. "Please…" he spoke breathlessly and tried to get air. What he got was cold, frigid air that burned his lunges. People stood around like it was a grand show and just watched.

"Any southerner that enters our lands either dies or faces a fate worse than death. Either way, you are single now, flower. And judging from your expensive looking coat, you are rich too." His coat was ripped open and his vest and shirt soon followed. The cold stung his exposed chest and stomach. Italy reached out to the crowd but they just continued to stare with no expression, even the children who stood with their mothers. Tears slipped down his cheeks as he struggled against the strong man. His body was weakened by the cold.

"Hey! Stop it!" A tall, blonde haired man walked over and shoved the other man away. Italy fell back against the wall and grabbed his neck. The voices and yelling seemed to blur together and the crowd slowly started to get smaller and smaller. But still none offered him help or warmth. They continued like he was not there. "Hey, southerner. What are you doing here?"

He looked up at the tall blonde and held his coat close to himself. He didn't trust this man either, despite his rescue. He looked like he'd just try it himself with the way he looked at him. Like he was meat to a hungry wolf. Italy shook his head and looked down at a crate of coal next to him and slipped one into his pocket before he was led down the street by his 'rescuer'. Where he was taken wasn't much better. It looked like a small house with a bed, kitchen and bath area in one room. He was led to a table that sat on the left side of the room and forced to sit down in the one chair. With every kind gesture offered to him, a question started to ring in his mind. "Are you going to make me marry you?" His companion looked at him in slight surprise, but seemed to shrug it off in a few seconds like it wasn't brought up at all. He started to grab his coat but Italy yanked it back against himself. "Don't."

"Fine." The stranger sat down on the table at his side and watched him. Italy stared down at the chipped and broken table and tried to ignore the gaze on him. "You never told me why you are here."

"I am looking for my betrothed…But that scary man told me he was probably dead and tried to…to…" He looked up at him and held his coat closed tightly. Light blues eyes watched him with expectance and some compassion. His stare sent chills down Italy's back and he gripped onto his clothes for dear life. "You plan to do it to me too, don't you? That's what the north do, don't they? Claim us as a spouse and force us to live here or take them back south to have our money."

There was a silence and Italy was certain that he hit the spot when the northerner chocked his head to the side with a frown. "Some of them. You shouldn't merge people together because of what is common." He slide off the table and grabbed a coat from a hanger next to the door. "Enjoy your bed."

Italy jumped at the slam of the door and looked around the drafty room. It was black and everything looked as if it had an inch of dark power on it. He curled up in the small chair and wrapped his arms around his shaking legs. The tears returned and he just let his coat catch the water. He should have thought of a plan before he left.

-X-

Spain's wrists were sore and stung from the rope rubbing against them. But no matter how many times he brought it up to his captor, he shrugged him off and continued his work. He didn't wish to stay there another day but he'd have to be an idiot to try and escape without a horse and all of them seemed to have masters. He was surprised when no one said anything about him being there. Many people came in to get their horses and the only one who seemed to acknowledge him only looked at him briefly before saying to Romano that 'his pet' needed to be fed. Albino bastard, calling him a pet when he was far from one. After a few hours of being ignored and shoved from one side of the stable to the other, Romano finally did something other than complain about how heavy he was. "You hungry?"

Spain sat up quickly and watched the northerner hand him a bowl. His excitement and appetite vanished as soon as he saw the bowl of green liquid and brown meat with some stuff that he swore looked like someone's tongue. He slowly took it and tried to balance it on his hands and set it in his lap without burning himself. His companion sat across from him and leaned back on his horse. The same pain in the ass horse he was tied to and refused to move from his spot. He shook his new enemy off from his thoughts and took a bite of the soup. It tasted awful and the meat was tough and dry while the juice was just a kind of nasty he had never even had in his mouth before. "What is this?"

"It is the last person who complained about the cooking. So keep the negative comments to yourself." Romano spoke too calmly to be serious. Spain asked again and got an annoyed sigh, followed by a glare. "I told you. If you wish to know the man's name, it was Fai'Qin."

Spain looked down at the bowl and spotted the floating tongue and vomited back into his bowl. Northerners were disgusting. "You are cannibals?!"

"Not by choice! It's not like there is much food around here. Besides, if you don't think about it, it tastes like any other meat. And don't start thinking that this is something I enjoy either." Romano continued to eat and ignored Spain's questions about other kinds of food or if maybe he'd take the bowl. After he finished eating, which he took his time doing, he grabbed the bowl and dumped out its disgusting contents in the snow outside the building. Now Spain had to smell it as well as still have the taste in his mouth. "Come on, fat ass. Move over." Romano grabbed the rope and dragged Spain across the floor to the other side of the stalls. He cleaned the rest of the stables and lugged him back to the make-shift bed and pushed him in. There was still daylight out and people worked around the town. They were all heard carrying heavy things and children could be heard playing.

"How long do I have to be punished?" Spain sat up and looked at his guard with curiosity. He took a while to answer and he was certain whatever it was, coming from him especially, he wasn't going to like it.

"When I decide I can't tolerate you anymore and throw your ass out in the snow to walk home."

He knew it. He frowned at the response and flopped back against the hay. He didn't see what he was being punished for that deserved this. All he did as far as Romano knew was go into the village and leave. It was not like the information they discovered was something that would not hidden for long. Every minute that went by he missed his home, the smell of spring and the fresh flowers. Italy's smile as he held him close to him. He should have said goodbye to him before he left and if he had been thinking about his possible death, he knew he would have. "Have you ever been in love, Romano?"

"No." He pulled out a knife and started to carve into a piece of wood. At least that was what he guessed he was doing, he looked more like he was hacking at it. Perhaps small talk was not a good idea. The silence felt awkward and Romano seemed content on making it that way. Every question got the same response no matter the subject. No. And the quiet continued. He forced himself up and limped to the entrance while Shadow trailed behind him. It was like the damn thing only went a certain distance from its master before it'd stop. A crowd soon gathered around an ugly castle front door and whispered to each other. A silver haired man walked out and stood at the top of the stairs. He guessed it was their ruler, Russia. But he did not quite look like other elves. His presence left everything cold and all bowed to him. His smile looked almost sinister.

"By the end of the month we will head out to the south to finally earn our right to live in the south and live among its people, not as the dogs they think we are but as equals. You all will finally be free from the wrath of heaven and the grip of our ancestors that suffocated us from our freedom." The words seemed to be enough to make the natives rejoice and cheer out to their ruler. But Spain felt a cold chill down his back as he stared at the violet eyed man. He felt that there was more to the plan then 'earning their freedom' and walking among his people. He looked back at Romano and paused as he stared ahead blankly, his broken wood chunk lay at his feet. He seemed to be the only one that did not enjoy his ruler's announcement.

"I'm surprised you aren't grinning at the thought of living among the south." Spain said with a bit of anger at the thought of his home being destroyed and ruined by the cause of needless war. Romano gave him a glare before he picked up where he left on the wood and mumbled under his breath. He couldn't catch it, but he guessed he called him stupid. "Why are you so rude?"

"Why are you such an idiot? Sometimes people are born that way." He growled between words before he tossed what was left of his work and flopped back and roughly petted the horse's head. He acted like a child at times and like a wild animal later. The northerners' manners were terrible and they had foul mouths and minds. He couldn't understand why they didn't comprehend people not wanting to be around them. He looked back out at the town and frowned at their poverty and dismay. He did pity them. Perhaps they were too cold and prejudice toward the North, but people who were shunned by Heaven must have been very bad people.

"Romano? Don't you wish to return to your birthplace? I'm sure if you proved that you were nothing like the northerners they'd let you stay."

The young elf snarl at him and slammed his knife into the wood post. "That's easy for you to say, but as you can see_ I am_ like the northerners. It is in my blood and I embrace it because I'd rather be a feared, disrespected, and lowly northerner than a selfish, vain and 'proper' southerner." Romano turned away from him and wrapped his arms around himself. He then whispered softly. "No matter how cold it is here, it is never as cold as a room full of prejudice people who took one look at me and banished me from all I know. And the worse part was…Grandpa just watched as he held Italy close to him and hid the fur on his ears."

Spain watched him and felt his heart sink deep into his chest. He was too hard on them, at least Romano. He shared his warm blood and yet he treated him like he was completely one of them. He walked over to him and kneeled down, his hand about to touch his shoulder when it was smacked away and brown eyes stared up at him with anger. "I don't want your pity, you bastard. Never bring this up again." Romano looked ahead before he stood and walked out of the stables. Perhaps Spain was too harsh on him before.

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Yep, that's it for now. Thanks for reading it and I hope this chapter is good. I'd hate to let down all you good people :D

Do people want to see more POVs? Or am I doing good with that so far?


	5. Chapter 5: In a new light

Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm always so happy to read them :D

Sorry this chapter took me so long. The holiday season and all that, but I hope it is worth the wait

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Romano tossed the bucket aside and stared down at the white powder around his feet. He was proud of who he was and he didn't care what people said. He threw away prejudice opinions and judgmental views when he left his home. He looked around at the brightened faces of his people and felt almost like he was in a new world. He never knew such short words would bring even the smallest smile to them. They all acted as if invading and destroying would earn them the right to live among those people. He didn't wish to return. Even more so after they'd prove to the southerners that they really were savage animals who only crave the sun and a decent meal. That was what was promised to them, but freedom didn't come free. It often came bloody. Romano turned away from the town and looked off toward the distant lands of his old home. Prove himself. Spain didn't know what it was like to be an outcast apparently.

He walked back into the stables and ignored whatever the southerner had to say. He hushed every word and any peep out of him was met with a glare. He didn't want to hear any of that crap about how he could change or that he shouldn't embrace wild behavior. He heard it all before and once was enough. After he finished his work and dragged the heavy elf across the floor to the pile of hay, he sat down next to Shadow and pet his snout. Spain watched him from across the stalls and rested his chin in his hands with an expectant look. Whatever the hell for, he had no clue. "What?"

"So you are going to let me speak now?" he asked sarcastically.

"Not if you want to be like that." He turned away and lay back against his horse's side. He heard something hit the floor and he looked to see Spain tossing coal in the walkway. More work he had to do in the morning. Asshole. "If I let you talk, will you stop tossing crap on the floor? I already cleaned that up today."

"Yes," the southerner said with his head up high, like a noble. What gave him the right to think he was above Romano? _He _was the prisoner. He motioned for Spain to speak and he did so shortly after he was permitted. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

He quickly looked at him in surprise and propped himself up. He felt like saying 'you better be' but the thought that a southerner even considered apologizing was something you didn't mock. "What for?"

"For hurting you, I guess. I imagine remembering your childhood is painful and your grandfather protecting your brother instead of you must have wounded you. But he did have his reasons. He was kind enough to share them to me if you wish to hear why you were forsaken and not your brother."

"Not really." Romano tossed a broken piece of straw away and glared at the rock wall. He had a feeling in the end it would always be because he wasn't as good as Italy. His baby brother was better at everything and didn't have so much of the north shown. He envied that. He would have given anything to be loved by people he loved. To be equals to them. To Spain. "I mean, I have a feeling I already know. So save it for later when I might actually be willing to hear my faults. Go to bed, you damn bastard." He turned his back to him and curled up against Shadow's side.

"If you want."

Romano snuggled into his tattered blanket and stared down at the loose straw and rock bed. He supposed he was rude. No, he wasn't. Spain still hated him, he knew it. Every southerner, except Italy, looked down their noses at him like he was a monster. He didn't have to be 'proper' or treat people above him. They got the same shit treatment he did. He heard the chatter of teeth cross the stables and he turned to see Spain curled under the fur coat. He shook and turned from side to side. Despite the warm covering, his cold-blood was still freezing. Romano shook his head and walked over and covered him with his ripped blanket. If he didn't fall asleep after laying his head down yesterday he might have noticed the elf was cold then too. Southerners had too easy of lives.

"How do you live in this weather with such drafty houses?" Spain looked up at him and trembled under the blankets. His green eyes looked tired and dim, but he still smiled a little. It looked stupid. "I guess I can see why you want to go south. Still…The war is rather silly, isn't it? Killing innocent people over something so trivial as desires and broken promises."

"Survival of the fittest, I guess. You think we should just stay here and accept our fates? Continue like we aren't slowly dying? I guess that is how you solve things, huh? Ignore it until it either clears up on its own or comes down hard in a giant storm. It's a wonder _your _people aren't the ones dying off into the hundreds." Romano crawled back to Shadow's side and watched Spain sit up and look at him with anger. It was about time he felt his rage of realizing his people's fates and faults. The southerner shook his head and kept himself propped by one hand. The other was tucked under the covers to keep warm. "Our people cannot co-exist, Spain. One of us will have to go."

"Only wild, war hungry people think that, Romano. Do you wish for the south to be destroyed and your people free to walk among the people of this land? Like equals? Do you know why the south hates the north? You were banished, forsaken and looked down upon by the heavens. They know the evil that lies in the heart of men. Your people and your land are cursed by greed."

"That was thousands of years ago. How do you know the greed hasn't been bred out?" He glared over at Spain and wrapped his arms around his legs. He acted as if he knew the hearts and souls of every man, woman and child in the north. Arrogance was their fault. It should have been treated the same as greed.

"You can never outbreed greed." The southerner kept his eyes on him. Romano felt a chill go down his spine at the gaze. Perhaps he was right, but anymore greed and prejudice looked like the same sin. Spain lay back down and went back to shivering and shifting under his covers. The night passed by slowly and the only noises were from the horses and the chattering of teeth. Romano wrapped his arms tightly around himself and pressed up against his horse to get some warmth. Shadow wasn't enough and didn't seem too happy to share his body heat. He glanced over at the southerner who still seemed cold. Romano growled under his breath before he stood and led his horse into a stall with the demon horse and crawled under the covers behind Spain. The southerner stiffened and quickly propped himself up on his elbow to look down at him.

"I'm not trying to take advantage of you or something. I'm just damn cold and you don't seem to be any better off."

Spain smiled and lay back down against him. After a while he started to feel warm, warmer than he had ever felt. Romano never slept in anyone's bed that he remembered. Though there was a brief memory of being close to his baby brother and his grandpa when it was cold. Back when southern winter felt unbearable. When sleep seemed to avoid him, he propped himself up and looked down at his bed-mate. He was sound sleep, his long ear burrowed in the hay and his other in the freezing breeze. Romano looked the bare ear over and shook his head. Southern ears looked so naked. He reached up and lightly touched the soft skin and slid his finger to the tip. Spain reaction to it was a groan and some shifting but nothing else.

Romano shrugged and looks down at his tanned face and watched his eyes flutter under his lids and his nose twitch like he smelled something. Spain looked almost cute when his mouth was shut and his eyes closed. But then must people looked better unconscious. Romano rested his head in his hand and watched the southerner sleep peacefully. He hardly moved once he was warm and was almost like a rock when Romano tried to roll him on his back. He gave up after a while and flopped back into the hay and fiddled with Spain's hair. When that bored him, he pressed his face against his companions back and wrapped his arm around his torso and listened to Spain breathe. Each exhale brought on a new memory, ones that were happy and long lost. Spain always showed him attention and played with him when others shunned him. That was the Spain he missed. The one he loved deeply. But perhaps he wasn't the man he thought he was and was really just like the rest of them.

"Romano…" The southern hand grabbed the hand on his chest and held it closer. Perhaps he never did change…

-X-

When morning came, Romano had to force himself up out of the warmth and adjust to the cold again. It stung at first, but after a minute or so, it just felt normal. He took his horse out of the stall and returned him to his open-gated stall. He creped across the floor and carefully grabbed a bale of hay and stopped with ever groan that came from the stall. He continued quietly to the horses and begun to feed them. After he did, he tip-toed to the back of the stables and grabbed the broom. He stopped himself and shook his head. Why should he care if he woke the damn southerner? It slowed his work down and that was the last thing he wanted. He walked back into the hallway and swept the straw away, loudly kicked buckets out of his way and cursed when he knocked over a pile of coal. Spain didn't even twitch. Bastard.

He finished his morning chores early for once and went out to get food for the both of them and was prepared for the protests. Spain still lay in a huddle under the covers. When he was about to panic and assume he died in the night, he saw the covers move and a long groan followed. "I don't think I can eat that," Spain muffled under the blankets and peeked out at him. After a couple days without food, he'd change his mind.

"Well, you're in luck today. It would seem we are eating an animal this time." Romano shoved the bowl toward him. The southerner pulled himself up into a sitting position and took the bowl. He stared at it untrustingly and slowly took a bite. He judged by his face that it didn't taste any better than the elf soup. He chewed slowly and looked up at him with worried eyes.

"What kind of animal is this?"

"You probably don't want to know." Romano flopped in the stall with Shadow and forced himself to eat the stew and glanced toward the empty stall at the front of the stables. They must have taken him during the night. Spain didn't look like he enjoyed it, but he quickly ate the food and almost didn't give himself time to breathe. After they finished their meal, Romano took the bowls back to the kitchen and glanced around at the gloomy northerners. They all stirred their food and seemed to have returned to their gloomy state. All but idiot Denmark, who seemed chipper as always and munching away merrily. Romano walked over and stood next to the unsteady table. "What is with everyone?"

"Hm? Oh, they are all sad because Lady Ukraine left to go south this morning. I'm sure she was happy Prussia wasn't there to see her off. He probably would have threw a fit and been an asshole." Denmark leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up. "Our ruler was so angry he wasn't even down there and where Russia goes, Lady Belarus goes. So Lady Ukraine was only sent off by peasants."

"Well, I'm not going to feel too sorry for her. At least she gets out of this frozen hell." He glanced around at everyone and stuck his hands in his pockets. Everyone, even the sadistic cook, seemed down more the usual. He paused when he noticed Germany walk out with two bowls of soup. "Does Germany have somebody now?"

"Yeah, some southern guy that wondered in here. Doesn't say much about him and doesn't even let anyone see him. I think he plans to claim him." Denmark smiled widely and finished his bowl before he tossed it on the table and watched it spin. "I suppose I should feed my little hellion. I'll wait until he wakes up first."

"You're terrible." Romano shook his head and walked back into the stables. Spain was curled tightly under a huge mass of fur. He shivered and shook violently. Romano smiled a little and grabbed a bucket to start his mid-day chores. "And this is springtime. Just wait until winter."

"You plan to keep me that long?" The southerner looked up at him with wide eyes. Romano laughed a little and said a simple 'I might' before he walked out and swung the pail back and forth. "Romano! Wait! That's several months away! Romano?"

Romano finished his work before nightfall and was greeted by the sight of Spain cuddled up against Shadow's side. The horse looked happy and content while the southerner petted the soft fluffy back. Romano walked over and grabbed Shadow's ear. "Traitor."

"I thought you'd want to move to his side. You always sleep next to him." Spain smiled up at him and motioned to the covers. He must have forgotten what he said that morning. Romano climbed under the warm fur blanket and snuggled back against his horse. Spain almost looked happy, but he was certain it was because he was warm and had food that day. He looked like a dork when he smiled. Spain didn't take too long to go to sleep and Romano was forced to watch him sleep again. He didn't mind too much since he looked peaceful and calm. Not miserable, which he was certain that he was. He was too cold-blooded to enjoy the weather in the mountains. Perhaps it was better if he let him return to his much desired home.

-X-

"Oh good, your finally up." Denmark smiled warmly at his little trouble-maker and held the bowl out for him. The little southerner just stared at it like it was full of worms and gently pushed it back toward him with a sour look on his face. It wasn't the most attractive face he'd seen, but it still looked better than the ones there. "Alright, fine." Denmark shrugged him off and started to eat it while making pleased noises and pointing to it with his spoon. "This stuff is like our specialty, you're missing out I tell ya."

"I have a feeling I'd rather starve."

"Maybe, maybe not. How do you know it's as bad as it looks and smells?" He slowly scooted over to him and held out a spoonful. He didn't care if he had to shove it down his throat, he didn't want to lose his prize after having him for only a few days. The southerner gave in after a minute long staring contest and took a bite. Before he could spit back the meat, Denmark reached over and held his hand under his chin to keep his mouth closed. He had little choice to chew it and made an even less attractive face. "Good. If we keep this up, you should be done eating by midnight."

He pulled his head away and ate it in small spoonfuls. Denmark rested his chin in his hand and looked his face over. When he was still and quiet, he looked like one of the most beautiful things he had seen. But the chances of him seeing that face without knocking him out were slim. But he didn't mind it too much. Just a skillet to the head and all was quiet. "What is your name?"

"Norway." He spoke softly and rubbed the back of his head. He glared at him a little and shoved the bowl away. "Why are you keeping me?"

He smiled widely and leaned back on his hands. "I've claimed you. As soon as I don't have to hit you to make you agreeable, I plan to marry you."

"I was afraid of that." The southerner grumbled and wrapped his arms around his legs. "Well, I'm happy to say that won't happen. I plan to be disagreeable until you can't tolerate me and you let me go." He smiled at him and held his head up proudly, like it was the smartest idea he ever thought of. He glanced around the room then looked back at him when he realized he was in a double bed and frowned. "Where do you sleep?"

"In my bed." Denmark grinned as far as he could and moved to where his legs were under him and sat back on his heels. Two could play the pain in the ass game. "I got to snuggle up against a nice warm bed-mate. He likes his tummy rubbed and he rubs his head against my chest and whines when I rub his ears."

"Ohhh, you have a dog?"

"No."

Norway frowned and watched him untrustingly. His proud face vanished soon when Denmark just stared at him. "Please tell me we don't share a bed…"

Denmark shrugged and looked to the side. He didn't really want to chance a bowl of yuck in his face if he told him where he slept. When he didn't answer, the southerner seemed to put two and two together and threw the bowl of cold soup in his face. How childish. "You know, if you want to be stubborn. I could always break your spirit and just beat you every time you start to annoy me." Norway quickly curled up against the headboard and watched him with worry. He would never actually do that to him, but the talk was always easier then the crime. Denmark wiped the food off his face and licked his fingers before his tossed the bowl and lay down across the foot of the bed. He had a feeling that it was going to be a long night since he lost his skillet. He peeked at the southerner, who was still curled up with his eyes fixed on him. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. "I wasn't serious." He started to reach over to grab his arm but it was smacked away.

"Don't touch me. You people are disgusting, foul monsters who think it's funny to abuse someone smaller then you. I will never marry you and give you the pleasure of having my money."

"Money? I didn't even think of that. I just want nice company. Hell just _having_ company would be good, since you aren't very nice at the moment." He glanced at him and rubbed the hand he smacked. The south seemed to have some manner problems if they felt smacking an innocent man was just. "Besides, I wasn't planning on keeping you from home. I'd much rather live peacefully just outside of the north where people won't bug me. You can live in that fancy city if you wanted. But you'd have to come see me every day."

"So I can give myself to you?"

Denmark paused and looked him over. He wondered if that was what his problem was. He bet the thought of sleeping next to a northerner sickened him. He'd cure him from that. "Not if you don't want to. After all, by the time you are agreeable, you'll be so in love with me that sleeping with me wouldn't bother you."

Norway laughed a little and wrapped his arms around his legs tighter and looked him over. He looked very beautiful when he smiled. If only he could get him to do it more. "You are a big dreamer and very crazy."

"It's part of my charm." He grinned and flopped back down on the bed. Maybe it wasn't going to be a long night after all.

* * *

That's it for now. Merry Christmas everyone! 3


	6. Chapter 6: A cold farewell

Thanks for reviewing sis, I'm glad you like Demark. XD

And thanks to all the people following and reading this

I hope this chapter is good. I am a little worried about it, but I hope it is worth the wait.

I managed to squeeze three POVs, yay!

* * *

The days started to pass slowly as the time for war drew near. Soldiers came from high in the mountain cities and the haunted, enchanting woods of the West. Romano looked around the town at the herd of people training, making weapons and stomping around with self-important posture. People handled magic in one corner and did not speak to the Northerner. Westerners did not look much different than the North people. They were hybrids of north and south and often called warm-blooded misfits. If it wasn't for the fact they crept him out, he would have went with them.

One Westerner sat on a pile of coal and moved his hands around a purple floating ball with a black aura. The feel of darkness the wizard brought out made Romano back away and turn back to the stables where Spain sat. He was quiet the past few days and he didn't even seem to want to speak with him when he'd say something. He had a feeling he knew why. The invasion of his homeland must have finally sunk in. Romano walked into the stables and crouched down next to the southerner. "Hey. At least be happy you won't have to be a part of this war. Pretty much everyone here has to put their fair share in this. Even kids are out there training."

"Is that the kind of land you fight for? Where children are not safe from the horrors of war?" Spain looked up at him with dark eyes and frowned. He was judging him. Like he had the right to set judgment on anyone, let alone on the person who has been protecting him? "I want to go home, Romano. I want to protect my land and the people I care dear for. Let me go."

"No," Romano said firmly and glared down at him. Even if the travel back didn't kill him, the war certainly would. He already had to worry about Italy being in the middle of it, he didn't have time to worry for Spain as well. When the southerner asked why, he ignored him and went back to his chores. He didn't have to answer him and, frankly, he didn't feel like it. Romano had enough drama in his day. The hours dragged along and the people outside whispered and kept wary eyes on the magical elves that seemed to watch them as well. Many of them ignored the Northerners but some stopped what they were doing and just stood there, like they were hiding something. When it got late, the newcomers where forced to share beds and some elves went into previously owned houses. Westerners who died in travel or that day to exposure were burned and filled the town with a foul smell.

Spain curled up in the hay bed and did not bother to look at him. Romano didn't wish to climb in with the ungrateful elf, but the memory of a warm body next to him quickly changed his mind. He climbed in behind the southerner and avoided touching him too much. The only noise was the sound of banners flapping in the wind. He glanced at Spain's back and watched the soft green shirt move with ever heavy breath. His cold fingers wondered up his bed-mate's back and stopped at the shoulder. The muscles under his hand stiffened and Spain shifted at the frozen touch. He was still awake. "Listen, idiot. I have my reasons for not letting you go. Just be happy with the fact that they are good reasons. Besides, I'm going to be out there fighting, so you'll probably be free of me soon anyway."

Spain let out a long sigh and turned back to him, his green eyes looked him over then closed and he let out a small huff. Romano watched him silently and expected the worse when Spain just lay back down and didn't speak. He pressed his face into the southerner's back and closed his eyes with hesitation. He didn't want to a part of this, the war and the bloodshed about to take place. He just wanted the right to be home and live with Italy once again. Meet his secret fiancée and see if they were worthy of his baby brother.

"You cannot blame me for wishing to return home, Romano. I miss it. The smell of the flowers, the feel of the grass and the happiness of the people I vowed to protect. I don't want it to change and I know it will. Everything I know will be destroyed and people I call friends and family will die by this." Spain spoke shakily and his body shook. He slid his hand up to his face and Romano could hear small sobs from his companion. "I don't want to die here. In this frozen place, eating my own kind or their faithful pets the next day or be watched by every northerner who comes in here. Romano, I—"

"Just shut up and go to sleep." He hugged him tightly and snuggled his face in the dirty brown hair. All his doubts vanished. He knew what he had to do now. Even if it wasn't what he wanted, it was what Spain wanted. Romano held him tightly and rested his face against Spain's shoulder with closed eyes. If it was to be the last time the cold-blooded elf was going to be in his arms, he wanted to make every second count. After a few hours, the southerner fell asleep and Romano watched him sleep peacefully and he brushed the loose hair behind his bare ear to see Spain's face better. His breath was soft and light and his noses twitched slightly. Romano sighed heavily and nestled in the bed and tried to get to sleep himself. Crashes and rattles of metal hitting metal echoed around the town. The blacksmith had only an hour sleep before he had to continue his work and he didn't seem to care how loud he was. Bastard.

Romano tried to block out the noises and soon fell asleep. He was awoken by thunder and forced himself to open his eyes and look toward the entrance. Rain poured down heavily and soldiers trained out in it. Romano groaned and climbed out of the warmth into the wet cold. The slippery rock floors and freezing rain was enough make him want to go back to bed. But he had to continue his work and clean the stalls and move the heavy coal to the blacksmith and help him keep the fire going and clean up the shop as well. Romano had to take on several people's chores and spent the day running around and helping people. At lunch he was surprised when Denmark offered him a bowl of soup. "It's just warm water with slight flavor. Couldn't afford killing an elf for it today," Denmark said cheerfully, despite being soaked.

"Thanks, I guess." He took the cracked bowl before he sat down on a wood stump and drank some of the 'soup'. It really was just warm water with hardly any flavor and the flavor was blood. Romano grimaced and sat it down next to him. The rain slowed down and people shivered violently as they passed the open shop. Denmark leaned back against the archway and stared out. "So how are you handling your little hellion?"

Denmark looked at him happily and crossed his arms. "He is good. It takes a while to get passed his shell, I'm sure. But I don't have to knock him out anymore," He spoke as if it was the grandest of accomplishments and looked back at the house that Denmark had. Only few people had homes and they were meant for married people. But that was something rare since people could not afford marriage and if they could, they couldn't afford children. Romano picked his bowl up and frowned when he felt that it was already cold. Perfect.

"Oh by the way," Denmark said as he looked out toward the streets at the training men and motioned to the albino, Prussia. "Don't talk to him unless you _have _to. He seems to be more annoying, if that is possible." Romano walked to the archway and looked out at the people as they trained. Everyone was soaked and the children were all taken inside when the rain got heavy. The westerners all huddled in different shops and watched the people outside freeze.

Romano jumped when Switzerland returned to the shop and angrily shooed Denmark away before he started to work on the swords. The rest of the day was spent banging on iron and being ordered around. The sky started to darken and the rain finally stopped. People returned to the slick streets to work and train and some just stood around, acting important. After a while the crowd parted and a tall man walked down the road toward the castle. His face was dark and his eyes could not be seen for his mask. He stopped at the castle door and waited. His foot tapped against the rock and his hands on his hips as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Romano slipped out of the shop and through the crowd until he was in the front row next to their guest.

Their ruler came out of the castle with his unnatural smile and stood in front of the visitor. "I see your injuries have healed nicely. I told you not worry."

"Yes," he mumbled irritably and crossed his arms. From his posture and long coat with the Elvish T on the back, Romano assumed him to be the ruler Turkey. "I have come to discuss the matter of strategy with you."

Russia nodded and motioned for him to enter the ugly palace. Everyone was surprised when Turkey lifted his hand and looked around the villagers. "Is something the matter?" the north ruler asked with his head tilted to the side.

"Your people, Russia. They are disrespectful." The west ruler looked back up at him and uncrossed his arms. "They do not bow in respect to rulers."

"Oh, that," Russia said softly. He sounded like it had been brought up before. "They do not bow to anyone, not even me. They are proud people. Why should they have to muddy their hands to show respect to the dirt that soiled them?" He smiled widely and ignored the growl from the westerner and motioned behind him warmly. "Come in."

Romano laughed under his breath at the annoyed expression of their new company and watched them enter the castle and the double doors slam behind them. Then it was back to work. Switzerland barked and growled at him and made sure to work him to the bone. He hated him already and he only started helping the bossy man two days before. Night soon came and people headed to bed. Romano walked into the stables and stopped when he saw Spain, once again, curled up against Shadow's side and ignored Romano when he came in. "Spain, get up." He walked over and shook him. He didn't stir or even groan and seem content to pretend Romano was not even there. After a minute, he grabbed the southerner's sensitive ear and pulled. It was followed by loud protests. "Then get up next time."

"Alright, alright, just let me go." Spain grabbed at his hand and sighed in relief when Romano let go. "What did you wake me up for?"

Romano ignored him and made his horse stand up before he tossed the tattered blanket over Shadow's back and slowly smoothed out the wriggles. He started to feel doubt now and voices in his head started to remind him of the horrors of the wilderness and the chances of Spain's death increasing on his own. He blocked out the noises and the questions from the southerner and focused on the safety of the stables or the images of Spain dead from battles. He shook his head and pushed away his doubt. "I'm letting you go." He quickly untied the rope around his wrists before he changed his mind and helped Spain on the large horse's back.

"Why are you letting me go? I thought you planned to keep me here?" Spain spoke softly and grabbed two handfuls of his ride's mane.

Romano looked up at him and huffed quietly, his eyes narrowed a bit. "Would you rather I change my mind? Because I might if you don't go."

Spain gave a smile that for once looked real and turned Shadow toward the backdoor. "Thank you, Romano."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get going." He patted the horse's backside and watched them gallop out the back. Without a blanket to cover himself, Romano nested into the hay and tried to warm himself up. He already started to regret what he did.

-X-

With no sun to tell the time, Italy was reluctant to climb out of the warm double bed. The sheets were rough but they were thick and kept in the heat. In that sense they were nice but otherwise they were like sleeping in a pile of hay. Itchy and stiff. He stiffened when he felt soft fur brush against his bare lower back and something wet rub against side. Italy quickly sat up and yanked the blankets, expecting the man who claimed him. He paused when a brown and grey wolf looked up at him with a blank expression. The animal had its nose presses against his hip and it bit the waistband of his pants while still looking up at him.

"Oh, good you are up," Germany said from across the room at the wobbly table. He turned to Italy and stared at him with the same blank expression. Like master, like pet, he supposed. "I need to discuss the matters of your stay. Since we have some guests, you will either have to share a bed with me or a total stranger. Either way, I have a feeling you will throw a fit."

"Why do I have to share a bed with anyone? Why can't I just sleep alone?" Italy curled up and shoved the wild animal away but stopped when it bared its teeth at him and lay back down. "I just want to go home. Please let me go," he whispered and looked back at the blonde elf. His company just sat at the table and watched him with a raised eyebrow. Italy knew what he was thinking. He thought he was childish like everyone else who wanted to boss him around.

"I can't let you go, even if I wanted to. You'd probably get killed out there and I don't send people as…dense as you to an early grave. So I found a fix to all our problems. We get married."

Italy froze and quickly sat upright and stared at the northerner in disbelief. "How does that solve my problems? My heart belongs to my betrothed and I'm poor, so you'd get no satisfaction from the marriage either." Germany got up and walked to the side of the bed that the wolf slept on and stroked its back. His pale blue eyes looked at Italy and he gave him a look over before he sat down.

"Your fiancé, if he came up here, is either dead or claimed by now. If you wish to actually get out of the house and live instead of spend the rest of your days stuck in here then marriage is your best bet. I don't get anything out of this marriage but companionship. Not that I need it, but this is more for you than me." Germany looked at the black stone wall and brushed back his dirty hair. Italy watched him carefully and held the blanks to his chest. He feared what advantages the northern man would try to use if they were married. And despite what everyone said, he wasn't going to stop his search for Spain. He knew he was still alive and that was enough to prevent any marriage.

"I can take care of myself, thank you."

Germany looked back at him and let a mocking laugh. "Yeah, sure. Says the man who just walked into a village full of people who hate the southerners, without a weapon or strategy. Did you expect us to welcome you and give you tea and cakes when you arrived? We are going to war against your kind. So if you left and didn't die from the cold, the war would more than likely kill you. You are safer here."

"Fine, but I'm not marrying you." Italy looked at the wolf to distract himself. It started to work when the northerner started to speak again.

"You will have to; it is improper to share a bed with someone you are not married to. That is a rule we like to stick to. It keeps us from turning into animals," Germany said the last bit quietly and stood up with his hands on his hips. Italy shook his head and leaned back against the headboard. He never should have left, he knew that for sure. If Spain was alive he'd find a way to get back home. He just hopped his love was just as determined to return to Italy as he was to find Spain. Germany walked back to the table and picked up a piece of paper. His eyes were blank and hallow, he didn't seem to have any sympathy for Italy and was stubborn to make him marry him. The northerner walked back to the bed and handed the letter to Italy and he read it. It was a report that two southerners were spotted and killed on sight. "We did capture some southerners, but one is presumed dead. One was claimed and the other one disappeared shortly after capture. He is probably dead."

Italy gripped the paper for dear life and shook his head quickly. Tears started to sting his eyes as he tossed the paper to the floor and covered his face. He had to have escaped, he had to have. He couldn't be left alone again, not after everyone was taken away from him. Hands were soon placed on Italy's trembled shoulders and his head was pulled against something hard and covered in fur. Italy was too weak to protest, but he lowered his hands to see Germany's stomach against his face. He lightly shoved the northerner away a little and sobbed and spoke quietly. "He can't be dead…He can't leave me to be alone."

"You aren't alone, Italy," Germany whispered and wiped under Italy's red, puffy eyes. "This marriage is only for you to be free from the other northerners picking on you. After the war, you will be back south." Italy closed his eyes and looked down at the wolf, which slept peaceful as he used Italy's legs for pillows. He was too tired and depressed to care anymore. He nodded and pulled away from the northerner to sit up straight and wrapped his arms around himself.

"Fine," Italy whispered and looked down at the black bed covering and grabbed the undone lining. Germany told him to be ready at noon and walked out. Italy watched the door close before he grabbed the wolf and pulled its upper body in his lap. He ignored its whines and snuggled his face in its soft fur. It just laid there and lazily wagged its tail.

Time started to pass slowly and Italy sat there with a soaked face. Everything he thought of led to the certain death of his beloved Spain and the forced marriage he was about to step into. The wolf, now called 'Itzo' just seemed to enjoy his placement across Italy's lap. Germany walked in and paused in his tracks when he glanced toward the bed. He seemed slightly surprised but shook it off quickly and walked over. "Here." He handed him a tissue and put his hand on his hip. "Are you ready?"

"It's noon?" Italy looked out the window that showed the same amount of grey light that showed when he woke up. It had a feeling he was not going to like the north, even if it wasn't so cold. "I don't think so…" Italy gripped onto Itzo's thick neck fur and glanced up at his new betrothed. He stared at the hand offered to him and shook his head quickly. He couldn't let go of the feeling that his beloved Spain was still alive, he had to have escaped death somehow. "I can't. Spain is still alive. I know it. No matter what anyone says, I'll never stop believing that he will come find me."

Germany lowered his hand and nodded slowly. "Alright, I can understand that. But just don't get crazy and try to escape. I don't want you to get attacked again and I'm not there to help you." Italy felt the elf's hand pet his hair before he picked up the discarded paper and walked back to the table. Italy gripped tightly onto Itzo and pet his reddish brown fur. No matter the days or years he had to wait, he knew Spain would one day return to him and he couldn't let anyone tell him otherwise unless they had proof he was dead. He lay his head on the animal's chest and listened to the faint heartbeat. Itzo wagged his fluffy tail and snuggled against him. The wolf was warm and a much preferred bed-mate than any north elves.

Italy listened to the loud yelling and shouts outside and glanced to the window to see shadows of tall men, lugging around wood and sacks of coal. It really was a frozen hell.

-X-

Spain quickly climbed off Shadow and rushed through the streets of his home. The heavenly smells of flowers and fresh bread filled his lungs and the sound of laughter and happiness echoed in his ears. Every step to the grand white stone castle seemed to take eternity. People watched him pass with a mix of surprise and disgust from his smell. He decided not to wait any longer to see his beloved Italy and ran into the castle and to the room where his love slept. He knocked a few times and peeked in to the see the room empty. Spain quickly walked down the hallways and paused at his ruler in a room, a letter in one hand and his head in the other. "My ruler, I have finally returned."

Austria looked at him quickly and dropped the note before he stood and walked over. "You are alive? Everyone assumed you died. What happened?"

Spain bowed his head and looked back at his ruler's stunned face. "I was captured, but they let me go." He waved him off and smiled, taking in heavy breaths of the fresh, clean air. "I'll tell you later. But first, where is Italy?" Spain heart stopped when Austria frowned and looked to the side. "He didn't die, did he?"

"More than likely." Austria spoke softly and looked at him. "Servants say he rode off north. His horse came back the next day. But she was so weak from the cold that we had to put her down. Italy, I fear, shared her same fate."

"No. Not Italy, he couldn't have died." Spain turned away and shook his head. He refused to believe it. Why would Italy go north if everyone thought Spain to be dead? He bowed his head slightly before he made his way down the hall to Italy's room. The closet door was open and the fur coat and boots he gave Italy a year ago were missing. He raced back to the front of the town and stopped and gave a small smile at the north horse, still standing there, eating grass. He mounted Shadow and petted his soft neck. "Come on, boy. Let's return you to your master." He headed back north and grabbed the mane tightly. He was going to find Italy. He knew he was still alive. Somewhere…

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Yep, that's it XD

I'm so bad at writing conversation and putting description in between talking. But I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading it ^.^


	7. Chapter 7: This is war

Thanks, sis. I'm glad you think so ^.^

And thanks to everyone who follow, favorite and read this. You guys are awesome

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The trees started to grow bare and leaves withered as Spain rode farther into the cold north. His home and people faded off into the distance, covered by snow and voiced over by the hard wind. Shadow galloped fast through the deep snow back to the village. He could feel his heartbeat quicken when he spotted the black houses of the town. If Italy was in that village, Romano would know. Spain slowed the horse down to a trot and walked into the back of the stables. It was early morning and Romano was still asleep. He lay curled up tightly in a pile of hay with only his clothes to keep him warm.

Spain walked over and pulled the fur coat off himself and covered the northern elf. Romano shifted in his bed and trembled under the fur before he slowly opened his eyes and looked up at him. He stared at him for a moment, as if he was registering why Spain was there then he sat up quickly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to find Italy," Spain whispered and crouched down in front of him and watched him. "If anyone knows where he could be, it's you."

Romano paused and stared at him with wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth. His expression still remained stunned as he looked him over then glanced at the entrance of the stables. "Isn't he south? I mean…that was where he went back when he wanted to see me..." Romano looked back at Spain and frowned, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Why would you think he would be here?"

"Because people said he came up here looking for me. Please, Romano. I need your help to find him. You are the only person here who could help," Spain said as he watched him desperately and got down on his knees. He knew that Romano had to look for Italy; no one would leave their brother to suffer a horrible fate. The northerner tossed the coat off and got up to start to clean the stalls without saying a word. When Spain tried to speak, Romano ignored him as always and walked out of the building. Spain frowned and quickly put the fur coat back on. He glanced at Shadow, who stood back in his stall and ate the hay around his feet. The day passed slowly as he waited for the northerner to come back so he could ask for his help again.

Spain leaned against a post and rubbed his wrists that still hurt from the rope burn. The frozen breeze slipped in and sent shivers through his body. It felt like it blew right through him and left him cold. People walked out in the streets and even women and children worked as the men trained. Everyone looked weary and some collapsed in doorways of buildings and homes. The sight of the poor elves sickened with poverty almost made him understand their desire to belong. He pitied them. But they still planned to start a war against his home and no matter how he felt toward the north, he had to defend the things dear to him.

He glanced outside at the red-headed elf that seemed determined to ignore all his questions. Spain felt his heart ache with the thought of having to fight Romano. He had to find some way to prevent that. But unlike his brother, he was stubborn and hard-headed. When lunch came, Romano walked into the stables and handed him a bowl of liquid without even looking at him before he sat down across the stalls next to Shadow. "Romano, help me find your brother. Please. I need to find Italy."

The northerner continued to ignore him and took a drink from the broken bowl. Spain glared at him and set the hot bowl down between his spread legs. No matter how many times he asked, Romano ignored him and continued to drink like nothing was wrong. Like Italy wasn't missing and possibly dead. "How heartless are you? Your little brother is out there."

"Just shut up and drink you water before it gets cold," Romano growled and finished drinking before he lay back against his horse and tossed the bowl.

"No," Spain said coldly and pushed the bowl away and watched Romano. "I cannot even think of drinking or eating when Italy is out there. Dead or alive."

"And if he is?" Romano stared down at the hay about his feet. His fingers trailed along the bumps in the rocks under them. "I don't think I could handle what probably happened. I'd rather just go on believing instead of knowing. Thinking he was just his same old stupid self and headed east instead of north. So I can go on thinking that he is safe and enjoying his life. I don't want to know that he is dead. I can't handle it. Not after grandpa died." The northerner's voice was quiet and sad.

"You are his brother, Romano. You have to find him. I know he is still alive and I can't just stay aside and wait for something to happen to him."

"How do you know he is alive? Do you know how rare it is for a southerner to make it up here? If the cold didn't kill him then a northerner probably did. I just can't handle that possibility." Romano wrapped his arm around his legs and glared up at him. His eyes were cold and had a hallow stare. He looked back at the entrance when there was a loud crash and slowly stood. "If Italy is alive, then he is probably claimed." A tear slipped down the young man's cheek before he angrily grabbed some rope and tied Spain's hands together. "You stay here."

"What? Not again." Spain tugged on the tight rope and looked up at him. Before he could speak, Romano walked out with an empty pail and vanished in the crowd. Perhaps going to Romano was a bad idea. But he had nowhere else to go and he was not going to give up on his love. In his heart he knew he was still alive and he hoped he'd find him before anything happened to him. When nightfall finally came, Romano returned to the stables and curled up against Shadow before he wrapped himself up in the tattered blanket with his back to him. Spain rolled his eyes and crawled over to him and sat down behind him. He was about to argue with him about tying him up when he paused at quiet sobs. "Romano?"

"Shut up and go to bed, you bastard," Romano whispered and curled tighter under the blanket and shivered and sniffed as he tried hard to hide his face from Spain. He slowly put his hands on the northerner's shoulder and forced him lay on his back. After a few protests and some struggle, he got him on his back and pulled the hands away to see Romano's soaked face and teary eyes. He smacked Spain's hands away and pulled himself up into a sitting position and glared at him. "Stop staring at me like that. I don't normally cry, it's just…"

Spain watched him and smiled a little. It was actually kind of nice to see Romano was not the strong, always angry elf he made everyone believe he was. Instead he was like everyone else. Had weakness and needed someone to lean on. "You are worried about Italy."

Romano looked up at him and shook his head before he wiped his tears away with the back of his hand and sniffed. "My brother is so stupid. He can't seem to do anything without someone there to hold his hand. Just thinking of the possible things that could have happened to him is enough to just accept that he is probably dead. Since the south is our enemy, no one would show mercy on him." He looked up at him, his eyes still watery and red. "I can't look for him. Not with the battle against the east coming so soon. But if he is smart at all, he'll find a way to get back home."

"He will." Spain glanced down at the rope and tried to slip his hands free before he looked back at the northerner. "I guess you are going to keep me here again?"

"Probably." Romano looked off to the side and wrapped the blanket around him. His copper eyes stared at the black rocks and he bit his chapped bottom lip. He looked lost in thought, but Spain was not sure what it was about. "Spain? If I untie you, you won't run away, right?" The northern looked back at him and watched him carefully. Spain nodded quickly and watched Romano start to untie the rope from his burning wrists. Once his hands were free, he took off the fur coat and wrapped it around the trembled north elf.

Spain smiled a little at the brown eyes that stared up at him with surprise and rubbed Romano's arms to warm him up. "I'll find Italy; I won't give up until I do."

"Yeah, I know. You're a stubborn bastard," Romano mumbled and wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on his knees. Spain made himself comfortable at his side and paused in surprise when the red-head leaned back against him and rested his head on his shoulder with closed eyes. The northerner cuddled up against him and shared his blanket with him. Spain watched the other elf as he slept peacefully, his face covered in black smudges from the coal. He looked dirtier then he remembered.

Spain fell asleep once he got warm and woke up on his back with Romano's face pressed against his arm. The northerner growled and looked up toward the entrance and narrowed his eyes. People worked and children cleaned the streets and picked up after people who dropped coal from buckets. Romano climbed out of the covers and looked down at Spain before he walked out.

-X-

Romano looked around out in the busy streets from the cluttered shop. He tried to continue his work and growled whenever Switzerland started to yell at him when he stopped to look out at the crowd. The other elf hammered at the iron sword like it was his worst enemy and growled between his teeth. Romano would have asked what his problem was if he was not too afraid he'd become like the iron. He didn't feel like talking much anyway. The thought of his baby brother lost or dead weighed heavily on his mind. He couldn't have lived, but he told himself that Italy got lost and tried to push it out of his thoughts. With more demands to make weapons, he didn't have time to think of anything that'd slow him down.

Everyone out in the town worked and trained while even a child on their sixth year were out in the cold to learn how to fight. Though the children were not planned to fight, they were more for back-up. It still sickened him that they were driven to use kids as their reinforcements. Despite his determination to keep Italy off his mind, he could only remember their happiness as children. Back when his brother relied on him and stuck to him wherever he went. At the time it drove him crazy, but he'd give anything to have him on his heels again. Just so he'd know that he was there and he could protect him. See that stupid smile on his face again and hear just how he lived his life. If he knew that one day would be the last time he'd see him, he would have listened to him more and hear what all he had to say.

"Romano, dammit, quit day-dreaming and work."

He quickly looked over at him and rushed back to fire to add coal and keep it hot. He couldn't wait for the war to be over. "Why are you such a bossy bastard?"

Switzerland paused and looked at him. His green eyes narrowed and he stared at him intensely for a moment before he started to pound the metal with even more vigor. "When you are allowed to have an hour sleep and then listen to others complain about how they have to get up three hours earlier then they usually do, then I'll stop ordering you around." He glared at him and dunked the sword in a bucket of icy water before continued to work on the weapon. Romano sighed and spent the rest of his day running around and lugging coal from the stables to the shop and was happy when lunch came. Denmark delivered it as he always did and smiled when he noticed that Switzerland was gone.

"I see your little pet is back. I thought he ran away." Denmark smiled and handed him the bowl with soup in it. Romano paused and slowly look a bite of the meat that float in the red liquid. It was elf meat, but at the moment he didn't care. He was just happy that it wasn't just warm water anymore. Denmark saluted him with a grin and headed toward his house. It seemed that things were improving daily with Denmark and his little hellion. Romano shook his head and finished his soup quickly and found some time to slip out and get food for Spain. The southerner seemed to share his appetite and started to eat as soon as the bowl was handed to him.

"Hungry?" Romano raised his eyebrow when the elf nodded. He sat down across from him and messed with the hay around him. He was waiting for the moment Spain would run away and return to warm and beautiful home. Nothing kept him there except the possibility of Italy being in the village. He could not figure out why Spain was so determined to bring back his baby brother when no one else seemed to think about it. Then it hit him like a knife in the chest. "Your Italy's betrothed," Romano whispered and looked at the southerner when he stopped eating. "You are the one marrying Italy."

Spain sighed and looked to the side with a nod. He acted like he was accused of murder and set the bowl down in his lap with his eyes still turned away. "Our people usually allow young elves time to explore their roots and let the elves of eighteen years learn about themselves before marriage. But I wanted to free Italy from his life of being a servant. I love him dearly and I'm not going to let him die because of his love for me."

Romano shook his head and stood as fast as he could. He didn't want to be there anymore. He couldn't handle the man he loved being out of his reach, permanently sealed away from his grasp. Romano walked out quickly and went back into the shop and tried to distract himself from the iron and coals about the floor. He didn't know why his heart beat so quickly and his lungs felt like all the air was taken out of them. He knew all along that Spain would never be his. But now he knew that he'd never pick him over his more talented, friendly brother. Italy always got the things Romano could never have. He took the heavy hammer and started to pound the metal, his mind filled with all the things he could never say. All he wanted was to forget what he heard and go back to wondering where his baby brother was. But with Italy's possible death and Spain's love for his brother was too much to handle after hearing about his grandfather only a few weeks ago.

"Romano, stop."

He looked up at the concerned face of Switzerland then back down at the sword. It was broken in half. "I—I'm sorry."

"It's fine." He offered his hand and Romano returned the hammer to him and took a step back. "Maybe you should take a break."

"No. I'm fine. I'm not ready to go to bed yet." Romano never thought he'd wish to work over rest, but Spain was back there and he didn't want to see him or he'd more than likely do something stupid. Switzerland nodded slowly and told him to stay away from sharp objects. After work, he walked back to the stables, expecting Spain to be gone and was surprised when the southerner was curled up under the fur coat. Romano walked to a stall across from him and curled up in the hay. Shadow slept next to Spain and looked too content to move to warm his master. That horse was starting to like Spain too much. Romano curled up and closed his eyes. When sleep looked certain, he felt the warm coat lay over him and glanced behind to see the southerner's face only a few inches from his own. His heart started to ache, but he shook it off and turned to face his bed-mate and snuggled his face against the warm chest. Romano gripped onto him for dear life and listened to the faint heart beat. He wanted Spain for his own and he was willing to do anything to get him.

-X-

Russia leaned back in his throne with his head in his hand and watched as strategists worked on a plan. They all suggest attacking the east to prevent aid when they attacked the south. The east ruler, America, cut off any relations with the west and north and only interacted with Austria. They were peaceful and had no army of their own, always relying on the south armies. It was rather pathetic that they even considered it, but the east was as much their enemy as the south. He glanced over at the other ruler, who sat quietly a few chairs down the table. Turkey's eyes were always hidden behind his mask. A man who hid his eyes was one that could never be trusted.

"Excuse me," Russia stood and motioned for them to continue before he walked out of the room and down the stone hallway. Every uneven rock and coal that made up the walls of the castle held the pain of the slaves that built it thousands of years ago. The voices of the suffering and dead called out for freedom and redemption in his mind. He stopped and looked up at the statue of the ruler before him. His arms held open and his stone face blank as he looked down at all who stood in front of him. Russia frowned up at his former adversary and felt the sudden urge to smash the beloved statue. Every memory it brought was one that he wished to freeze away with the rest of his life. His chest started to hurt badly as if someone had stabbed him in the heart and blood soon stained his coat, his skin never penetrated.

"Did you get bored at the meeting, Russia?" Turkey walked to his side, his head turned upward to the statue. "Ah, the famous brave ruler. I heard he died from cold while he was out hunting. His lungs frozen," The westerner looked toward him and smiled. "I'm surprised his children have not tried to take their throne, since you were nothing but his…companion."

Russia frowned and narrowed his eyes slightly. He wanted to smack the grin off his face with his pipe again. "They know better than to cross me. People who betray have a nasty habit of dying slowly and painfully." He made sure to get it across that Turkey would share the same fate if he dared to the same. His company frowned and took a step away before he paused and smiled again.

"Are you injured, Russia?"

"No." He smiled and tilted his head to the side, even though his heart still felt like it was being ripped out, he didn't want Turkey to know. "I do not get why you are smiling, though. Do you find pain amusing, Turkey?"

He gave a small smile and shook his head slightly before he turned back to the statue and crossed his arms. "Only on people I think deserve it. Arrogant, greedy fools who feel that people should bow to them. The ones that feel like they should be above others. When really they are just as much dirt as the rest of them." He looked back toward him with a small smirk. Russia could tell he was insulting his people, but he didn't care. His worthless opinion wouldn't be needed after the war was over.

"Then you shall be smiling ear to ear when we attack the south." Russia continued his walk down the hallway to his room. He heard footsteps follow him up the stairway to the small hall where ten doors on each side. Once in his room, he stripped off his coat and shirt and looked down at his bloodstained chest. He needed to get rid of the person who caused it. Russia climbed into the double bed and rested his head on the straw pillow. He could see why the rulers before him always had cotton filled bedding. But what his people suffered through, he suffered through. He did not see then point in having the finer things when people poorer than him slept on rocks and hay.

People walked about the hallway all night and voices from his guests whispered outside his door. Russia growled quietly and looked out at the window at the clouded night sky. He dreamed of the night he'd finally see the stars and moon. The cold and snow was his home, but the price he had to pay to stay in his land was far too great. The bodies that lay at his feet was another sacrifice to keep him in his home. He had every right to live in his realm and once he destroyed the other rulers, he'd prove that half-breeds were as great as a full blood.

When morning came, he was awakened again by his sister clawing at his door and begging him to come out. He was tempted to lock her in a cage until he had the power to push her on another man. After a few minutes of being ignored, she left. He dressed and walked out of his room, down the hallway to the strategy room. Prussia stood at the table with his back to the door. He stood straight with his hands on the table and his fingers drummed lightly on it. The albino did not bother to turn his head when Russia walked into the room and stood next to the captain. "Do you not like the plan?"

"I don't think my opinion really matters much, my ruler." Prussia clasped his hands tightly behind him and held his head up. He looked much like his father and was just as arrogant and cold hearted. Russia smiled and looked at the map on the table and grabbed the corner before he pulled it off.

"Why don't we just go in there and kill everyone? They do not expect an attack, so they will be caught off guard and easy for the kill." Russia looked at his company with a grin.

Prussia looked at him without a movement of his head and his red eyes stared at him with surprise. "You wish to murder innocent people?"

"It is not like we have never done it before." Russia tossed the map into the fireplace in the corner and headed back to the black doors. "They think us to be animals. Why should we disappoint them? Let's show them what an animal _really_ is." He walked out of the room and headed down the hallway with a smile still on his face. It was time to show the land his true colors.

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Ugh, I don't care for this chapter DX. But I wanted to get a chapter posted and this was the only thing coming out. I hope it is alright and I'll try to make the next one better.


	8. Chapter 8: The invasion

Thanks, sis for reviewing this. I hope it stays interesting XD. The previous ruler is some goober. Maybe I'll have him mentioned more late, since he is a big part of Russia's past.

Get to see our first battle in this one

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Romano stood next to Shadow and smoothed out the wrinkles in the blanket on his horse's back. He was to head out to battle the next day with hardly any training. Bastards. He glanced down at the southerner who slept in the hay next to Shadow's feet. He curled up tightly under the coat and shivered slightly. Romano kneeled next to him and brushed back Spain's dirty brown hair off his forehead. Black smudge marks tainted his tanned skin. His clothes were stained and one sleeve was ripped while blood stained his green collar. He really was too delicate to survive in the north. Romano shook his head before he stood and started to clean the stables. The morning passed slowly and after Romano knocked down two crates of coal and cursed as he cleaned up his mess the southerner did not stir, so he stopped bothering being quiet.

"Do you work every morning?" Spain asked. He sounded tired and a long groan followed his question. The southerner popped his head out from under the fur and looked at him with squinted eyes. Romano shrugged him off and carried some hay into the stalls. He worked every day since he arrived in the north and everyone put in their share of work to get it all done. It made him wonder how lazy the southerners were if they didn't work when they got up in the morning.

"How do your people spend the days?"

The southerner smiled a little at the question before he sat up and leaned back against a post. Romano wondered if he'd regret asking him. "Well, they work. But instead of getting new work when they finish, they rest and enjoy the markets or the forests. As long as the people are happy, then everything goes well. People harvest and markets sell." Spain's eyes brightened as he continued to talk about his home land. Romano leaned against a post next to an empty stall and watched him. Words started to blur together and he stopped paying attention after his company started to talk about the different professions in his city. Romano didn't care, but he didn't have want to drop the southerner's excited spirits. He couldn't see what was so great about being a baker, but Spain seemed to find enjoyment in telling him about it.

He glanced outside as the other elf continued to speak of his land. It seemed to lift his mood up incredibly, but the conversation was one-sided and boring. Romano swept the floor and nodded whenever it sounded like his was asked a question. He finished his work later then he normally did, but he blamed it on the southerner for distracting him and walked out to continue his work in the shop. He expected to get yelled at by the bossy blacksmith, but Switzerland just glanced at him when he entered and continued to hammer a piece of medal. The blonde seemed content not to talk.

"Look, I'm sorry about the sword. I guess that is why you aren't bossing me about, ordering me to carry coal to the fire and keep it hot," Romano said before he picked up a crate and groaned at the weight.

"I don't care about the sword. I fixed it last night." Switzerland paused his work and glanced at him before he dunked the sword in the bucket and pushed back his dirty hair off his forehead. He had been quiet after Romano decided to stay, but at the time he didn't think about it then. "I thought perhaps you'd want a break from all of that since something seemed to be bothering you."

"Yeah, I guess so." Romano dropped the crate next to the fire and sat on it. "It just always seems that things never work out for me and I always have to clean up people's messes with no respect to follow. I don't get why people have to be so stubborn."

"Says the most stubborn person here. Is this about the southerner in the stables?" Switzerland looked up from his work and raised his eyebrow when Romano didn't say anything. He wasn't sure how he knew about Spain, but was almost afraid to ask. When people in the village started to become aware of southerner's, trouble always followed. His company smiled a little at the silence and started to hammer the blade. "You should never regret your hardship. They form who you are and if you start to let it bother you, it starts to change you for the worse. Everyone has their price they have to pay to live."

"Huh, I bet not many have had to pay my price." He rested his chin in his cold hand and watched the elf as he pounded the metal with some anger. Romano found it hard to think others could even endure worse then what he had face since birth. Rejection, judgment and ridicule. It was something a child should not have faced, but he had to. He was happy in a small way that Italy never knew that hardship, but he was also jealous. His brother was always the favorite and got the attention that Romano so desperately wanted. But he was forsaken because of his blood. "What price did you have to pay to live?"

Switzerland paused and looked at him with slight surprise. He looked as if no one had ever asked him. He glanced to the side and slowly set his hammer down and fiddled with the handle of the sword. "I had to cut off all ties to the girl I loved and return to my roots. She accepted me for who I was and let me stay in her home for a time. But her father returned home one day and saw me with her. To save her honor, I pretended I was about to force myself on her and she believed it." His green eyes looked the blade over quickly and they shined against the reflection of light against the metal. "The last thing she said to me was 'you have proven that the north will never be anything but monsters'. That's why the south and north can never be anything but rivals. If we do one thing bad, no matter how well they knew us, we're suddenly animals."

"So you think we should just kill them all?" Romano sank back against a cold metal post with big rings hooked into it and shifted when one poked his back. The shop was cluttered with finished weapons that needed to be collected and big equipment. Switzerland returned to his work like he didn't wish to continue the conversation. But he didn't really care. "Do you think it'd solve our problems if we just wiped them off the face of this land?"

"No. I think we should just all live with our sins and not add more. I don't really feel like killing people for the sake of pride." Switzerland put the sword in the bucket of water and walked over to Romano with his hands on his hips and leaned down a little so they were face to face. "The only advice I can give you is that if you plan to keep that southerner here, you better claim him before someone hurts him. If you don't want to do that, then you should probably let him go or he'll get killed when you are not looking."

Romano glanced toward the stables and watched the movement about the stalls. He felt his stomach turn with every noise that came from the building. Cold wind started to blow through the town and carried white powder with it. People never entered the stables, but Romano still felt some worry. He could never claim Spain. But he could never let him die either. Much had to be done before he left and he only hopped he'd have the time to get it all done.

When lunch came, he took two bowls into the stables and felt a sigh of relief escape him when the damn southerner fine and snuggled up against Shadow. With all his damn worry, he was expecting Spain to be at least beaten-up a little. Romano walked over and kneeled down in front of his companion and handed him the soup. Someone had suggested to just eat the dead westerners instead of filling the town with the smell of burnt flesh. But nobody told their guests of that decision and made them believe they were eating something else. Spain slowly seemed to adjust to the food and stopped protesting and complaining while he ate.

"You haven't said much to me since you found out I am engaged to Italy. Are you mad at me?" Spain asked quietly and looked at him over his bowl. He looked like a lost pup but Romano couldn't figure out why. His opinion shouldn't matter at all to Spain. He shook his head and set the bowl down at his feet before he shifted and sat down cross legged in front of him.

"Why should I care who you are engaged to? I'm happy Italy finally has someone to look after him. You certainly are…worthy of him." Romano picked up the bowl and continued to eat. Spain smiled at his response and went back to eating. Romano looked back out at the snow storm and felt a tingle go down his body as he imagined the frozen wind hitting him like a blunt weapon. The people all huddled with every burst of snow. Every day closer to war, the storms started to get worse. Heaven knew of their intentions. But even so, they weren't about to stop.

"Romano, I hope one day you will find happiness. I know I've been rude and unkind to you, despite that you still fed me and treated with some respect. I know other northerners would have claimed me by now and forced me into a marriage I didn't want to be in. I guess it's your southern blood," Spain spoke quietly and held the fur close to his body. Romano looked at him and shook his head. He was still prejudice against the north, no matter how much they suffered. It was a price every northerner had to pay to live. To be forever disrespected and treated as villains. It was something no one should have to pay, no matter how animal they were like.

"It is the elf blood that makes me treat you like an equal. I lost all trace of the south when they banished me to the forsaken lands to be among 'my kind'. So what you see from me is my father's warm blood." Romano pushed himself up and grabbed a handful of the coat with a yank. Spain got to feet with a quick pace and looked down at him. He looked worried and he had a reason to be. Romano dragged him out in the middle of the snow storm and held him tight against him. Everyone stopped and watched them. Some looked surprised while some didn't look like they cared at all.

"Romano, what are you doing?" Spain shivered violently against the hard wind and brushed the white powder off his face.

Romano glanced back at him but didn't feel like answering him. He walked to the center of the town and glanced as everyone started to gather around them with curiosity and soon a small crowed surrounded them. He felt his heart race as they all watched him. He had never claimed anyone before. "I…I have claimed this elf for my own. If anyone tries anything with him, you won't be telling it to your friends."

Spain looked at him quickly then back at the crowd. Everyone watched them for a bit then shrugged them off and went back to work. The southerner yanked away from Romano and stared at him with a mix of disbelief and horror. "What is this?"

"Now no one will hurt you. You're welcome." Romano rushed into the shop to continue his work. Switzerland stopped and looked at him with a concerned expression. He wondered what he did to concern the grouch. "Nothing like your future husband hating your guts," Romano said jokingly and started to lug around the coal to the fire. The day passed quietly and people outside started to whisper and gossip. It must have been such a surprise that Romano would find someone he could tolerate. Bastards.

When nightfall came, Romano cleaned up the shop and looked around it. It was hopefully going to be the last time he had to work in it and it filled him with some joy. He wasn't going to miss the coal and steel. He walked into the stables and stopped in his tracks at the sight of Spain. He sat quietly in a stall, his head hung and his wrists rested on his knees. He looked pathetic. "Oh, come on. It's not like you'll actually marry me. The chances of me surviving this are slim."

"And if you do? What happens?"

Romano paused and shook his head before he flopped down next to Shadow and wrapped his torn blanket around himself. "You're a cold-hearted bastard, aren't you?" He turned his back to the southerner and wrapped his arms around himself. If he was any other north elf, he'd claim and marry Spain no matter what he said and take away his brother's happiness. Even if his brother was dead, he could never find the strength to force his love to marry him. Others would call him a coward, but he wasn't sure if that was what it really was.

"I'm sorry, Romano. It's just I can't even think about marriage with anyone unless it is Italy."

"Oh, just shut up and go to sleep," Romano closed his eyes tightly and squeezed his blanket. Even though Italy was his brother, he started to hate the name.

Morning came fast and the sound of soldiers gathering their horses woke Romano up quickly. They all started to head out and all the troops walked over or around the southerner. Romano stood and quickly tossed the tattered blanket over Shadow's back and mounted him. Everyone started to ride out and Romano followed, his head still turned back to the stables. In the entrance, Spain stood and waved at him. He felt a smile spread across his face as the southerner waved until he was out of sight.

"So you have claimed that southerner in the stables?"

Romano looked over at Sweden and frowned a little. He didn't really want to know what all the villagers spread through the town. "Yeah, I did. What else did those gossipers say about me?"

The blonde shrugged and looked ahead. His expression was blank as always. He never seemed to show emotion that much. "I don't know. I have not heard anything from them. I was in the tavern when I heard you announce it."

Romano nodded slowly and looked ahead at the hundreds of horse riders from the north and west. Russia and Turkey led them through the deep snow and harsh winds. He couldn't help but wonder how Spain was to keep warm in the stables and if the thought of being claimed would send that southerner to try and get home. He was stupid and it wouldn't surprise him. Romano started to get more and more nervous the farther they got from the town.

"Hey, Romano! You nervous about going into battle?" Denmark rode next to him. Oddly enough, Sweden rode away when their new company came. Romano never could understand why they didn't get along.

"I'm fine. Aren't you a little nervous about leaving your pet alone? What if he tries to leave while you are away?"

Denmark smiled widely and leaned back in his saddle with his hand behind his head. "Nah, he won't. I'm too adorable."

"Yeah, sure you are." Romano rolled his eyes and looked ahead. He started to see why Sweden wouldn't like his company.

-X-

The east was as beautiful and peaceful as the people said it was. Sweden closed his eyes at the soft breeze and could only think of his beloved Finland. He feared what war would do to their love. If he'd lose him like so many had lost their loves due to their differences. He feared the sound of his love calling him a monster while people died around them. But hearing that was better than Finland being among the tattered bodies. He shuddered at the thought and shook his head slightly. He would never let that happen to him, not after he promised him he'd always protect him.

He looked toward the other soldiers and wondered if they craved the coming battle. If they'd show mercy to the innocent elves, who had never been in a war. It scared him to think of what was in his blood. The animal-like, savage beasts that would kill just to survive. Deep down he wondered if he'd become like his ancestors.

"You worried about something?" Denmark rode next to him and watched him with some concern.

"No. Why?" Sweden glanced at him and frowned at him. The other elf smiled like an idiot and pointed at him like he knew something. He probably didn't.

"It's Finland, right? I forgot he was even in this land. I haven't seen him since you two got married. I don't know how to you two can stand being away from each other for so long."

"We manage." He grumbled and glared off to the side. He couldn't stand being away from Finland for so long. Every second he thought about his love and all that time he wished to hold him again. It pained him to know that Finland probably did not think about him as much. His love spent so much time with other people, he feared of what he did to fulfill his need for a companion. The thought of someone's hands on Finland made Sweden want to kill anyone who even thought about keeping his beloved's bed warm.

"I can see you manage, you manage pretty well at ripping your bridle's reins." Denmark let out another stupid smile and leaned toward him a little. His eyes bright and full of trouble. "You know, you should think about what you are thinking about now when we fight. I'm sure you'll wipe out those east guys in no time."

"I'd rather not." Sweden looked off to the distant lands. The silver and glass castle shined over the hills. He felt his heart speed up at the thought of Finland being in the city. The trip felt like eternity, but they were soon at the gates of the silver city. The north and west ruler ordered not to show mercy then they all charged through the capital. Sweden's heart stopped when elves were decapitated and their headed penetrated by swords and axes.

Sweden quickly climbed off his horse and rushed through the gates. The screams of easterners and shots of northerner's crying victory made Sweden sweat as he ran through the market. He jumped over bodies and looked around quickly. An easterner ran passed him and Sweden ran after. "Stop. Where is Finland?"

The young man stopped and looked at him, terrified. "Fi—Finland? I—I don't know. Please don't kill me."

"I won't." He started to back away when a northerner rode by and ridded the young man of his head. Sweden jumped at the blood that spattered on his face and cloths as the east elf fell at his feet. He slowly took a step away and watched his ally ride off to murder more innocent people. He quickly rushed down the streets and pushed passed the panicked enemy to the shop where Finland worked. The windows were broken and northerners rode by, pushing passing civilians into the shards still in the window frame. Sweden ran inside and looked around. He felt sweat drip from his forehead and his breaths were heavy and uneven. The picture of Finland laying in his own blood was fresh in his mind. He was close to turning against his own people when he heard quiet sobs come from behind the counter.

"Finland?" Sweden leaned over the counter and paused at a puff of light blonde hair, stained with blood. He quickly made his way around and grabbed his beloved's arms. "Finland."

Finland looked up at him with teary eyes; he smiled and hugged him tightly. His body shook against his and trembling fingers trailed down to his chest and he was pushed away. "What is going on? Why are they attacking us? Why are you covered in blood?"

"Later, love. I have to get you out of here." He lifted him in his arms and quickly made his way out. Easterners were slaughtered and Sweden could feel Finland cry against his neck, his tears falling down onto his dirty skin. A northerner stood in his path and watched him with narrow eyes, a bloody sword in his hand. Sweden held Finland close to him and prepared himself for whatever trouble was to come.

Denmark jumped down behind their ally and rammed his axe into the man's back when he lifted his sword. "Hey, you get him out of here and I'll defend your rear."

Sweden narrowed his eyes at the grinning elf and quickly walked passed him. "I owe you nothing."

"Gesh, someone doesn't know how to say 'thank you'." Denmark didn't seem too bothered and continued down the street. Sweden frowned and walked passed the burning houses and dead bodies to the main gate. Romano stood there and looked content to stay there. Perfect.

"Romano, watch him for me." He set Finland on his feet and gently led him to the other elf. Romano protested and asked him why. "I have a debt I have to repay." He ran back into the city to look for that damn elf.

-X-

"My ruler! We are being attacked!" France burst through the silver double doors and looked at America with desperation. He frowned and quickly looked out the window. He could see the destruction from the high level of the castle. "The north have finally made their move and without warning. What are your orders?"

"I think it's pretty obvious, France. We defend my people." America grabbed his sword before he stomped down the silver steps. France followed and quickly grabbed his arm.

"But my ruler, we have to think of a strategy and get you to safety."

"Alright, you think of a damn plan, I'll kill some filthy invaders." He wasn't about to let some asshole destroy his land and get away with it. He didn't plan to sit around with twenty guards to protect him while good men and women died. America yanked his arm out of his general's grasp and hurried down the hundreds of stairs to the main gate. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for whatever faced him. He was ready to finally prove that he didn't have to rely on Austria anymore.

The doors flung open and twenty or more northerners and westerners stood and stared at him. Some looked surprised and others just looked too happy for his taste. He lifted his sword and started to fight them off. Some attacked him from behind while he was in a deadlock with one. He kicked them away and killed two. He was getting somewhere. He felt a sharp pain when on kicked him in the shin and he fell down to his knee. A big, ugly hairy man smiled down at him and lifted his sword to finish him. A sword penetrated the enemy's chest and France yanked the sword out and started to kill the rest. "You shouldn't run off to get killed, my ruler."

"I guess you are here to protect me." America rolled his eyes and grabbed his sword off the floor and cut across a man's hips then up his stomach and chest. He wanted to throw-up when the north elf's innards fell out front of him. The two finally defeated the room full of soldiers and America wiped the sweat from his brow. "You know, I would have been fine on my own."

"I'm sure you would have been fine without your head, my ruler." France smiled at him and walked to his side. "Now, if you don't want me getting grey hairs while I'm still young, please stay with me."

"You ruin everything."

America smiled but quickly frowned at the sound of cracks and glass shattering. Ice covered the floor and walls and the castle even shook slightly. America's heart felt like it leapt out of his chest when he saw a tall figure walk through the double doors. Violet eyes shined and an unnatural smile was spread across the invaders face. Russia stood into the light and tilted his head to the side, ice spread out from his pale hands and his silver hair danced against the sudden burst of chilly wind. "Knock, knock."

* * *

Man, I hope I did well with the new characters. I'm so nervous


	9. Chapter 9: Almost confessions

Yay! I got some reviews, awesome. Thanks everyone so much for taking the time to review this.

**La'Keera: **I'm glad you like the ending so much. I was afraid it'd be corny. But as long as you think it's the best ending ever then I'm happy. I think you know who Switzerland's girl is ;}

**Mighty Agamemon: **Oh yeah, Spain will have his glory moment and make Romano regret thinking he was delicate. Romano mainly thought that because of how damaged his clothes were. Not thinking that Southerner's wear thin fabric, so it rips easily XD.

**Scarlet daydreamer: **Wow, I'm really honored. Thank you so much. And its okay, it's nice to know that you like it so much. Yeah, France is a hard one for me to write. But he might be more willing to surrender in this chapter XD.

Be prepared for some badly written fight scenes XD

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America stood silently as the tall Northerner stood a few feet away. He could feel his breath quicken at the sight of Russia again. His purple eyes that once shined brightly were now hallowed and cold. Frozen like his black heart. "I—I didn't realize you were the north ruler."

"Of course you didn't. You are too self-adsorbed to notice anything beyond the walls of your city." Russia smiled at him. He looked evil and filled with silent rage. America's breath was shaky and every step Russia took closer to him sent chills down his spine. He felt France tug on his sleeve and whisper for them to run, but he was frozen in place. Trapped inside an empty gaze.

"Please, my ruler," France spoke with fear and shallow breaths. He tugged desperately on his clothing and held out his sword toward Russia with a shaking hand. "Stay away, you monster."

The north elf stopped and looked down at the sword pointed to him with that smile still on his face. America squeezed the handle of his sword and held it up at his enemy. Despite how he felt for the northerner before, he destroyed his city and that was unforgivable. "You bastard, you come into my lands and destroy a city of innocent people when we've done nothing to you? You feel that you have every right to barge into my home and try to take it?" America pushed France behind him and glared up at the invader. His heart still pounded in his chest, but all doubt of survival was shoved to the back of his mind. He had to be brave. "The only thing I can say to you is _try_."

The unnatural smile widened on his pale face. Russia held his hand at his side and a bar made of solid ice extended from his right hand. He lifted it up to pat it in his left hand and glanced from one to the other. "Alright."

America shoved France away against the ice-covered wall and took his battle stance. The northerner stared at him and tilted his head to the side. The innocent expression on his enemy's face could fool any wise man, but he had seen it before. It was usually the face he made when he planned to do something bad. America swung at his foe and ducked when the ice bar headed for his face. No matter how he swung at him, Russia always dodged or blocked him. America jumped up and swung his weapon down to hit the north elf in the head. Russia smiled and hit America in the side with the blunt cold weapon.

He screamed out in pain before he dropped his sword and fell down on his side a little ways away from Russia. France ran over to America's side and grabbed his arm, his expression mixed his worry and fear. "Please, my ruler. We have to retreat. We can get the city back with the help of Austria. But we can never replace you. Now Please."

He looked up at France then back at Russia, who took calm strides toward them. America grabbed France's light blue color and glared up at him. "If I'm running, then my people are coming as well." He talked through his teeth from the pain. His ribs felt broken, but he didn't give a shit about himself at the moment. He could hear the innocent cries out in the city. Each scream broke his heart and he could only imagine their deaths.

Russia stopped at America's feet and watched him with a frown upon his face. The cold breeze still blew around them and the ice under him stung America's bare hands. "Do you surrender?"

"Not in your life." America spoke through his teeth and glared up at the northerner. Those violet eyes watched him the same way they use to so many years ago. Perhaps under the ice and snow was that elf he knew. "Are you going to kill me?"

A smile spread across his pale face and shoved his ice weapon under America's chin. "I might."

No, that elf was long gone now. America wished for nothing more than to shove that bar through his heart. He trembled from the frigid cold air before he looked over at France, who still looked terrified. He had to get his people from the clutches of those monsters. He stood slowly, his legs felt weak and shaky from the bursts of winter wind. His side still hurt to no end and he was sure at least one rib was broken. When he felt his side and wanted to curse at the pain that followed. Russia watched him with a smile and placed his hand on his hip. He found it amusing. America growled and looked at France as he stood. "Alright, we surrender."

The northerner frowned slightly before he grabbed America's jaw and burned his skin with the bitter cold touch. America swore he was freezing his skin, it stung so badly. His muscles felt stiff and he had trouble opening his mouth. Apparently the north elf knew he was bullshitting him. Shit.

France stood a few feet to the left of them, his eyes wide-open and his body was stiff. He looked horrified and speechless. America could feel his heart start to pound in his chest. Pressure surrounded his neck and his lungs started to feel as if they had lost all air. He grabbed Russia's cold hand and tried to free himself. Those damn eyes stared down at him with a hateful gaze. America's jaw started to feel like it'd bust under the tight grip. "Russia…please…"

Russia paused, his eyes widened slightly and the killer grip on his lower face was loosened. Something jumped down behind Russia and hit him a couple of times with what looked like a board. The northerner released America and turned to the attacker. America tried to catch his breath before he slowly placed his hand on his neck and jaw. They were cold, slick and wet. He glanced up at Russia to see him fighting his little brother, Canada.

His little brother tried to block the ice bar with the small plank he used for a weapon while keeping his balance on the slick floor. He looked brave despite having a shitty weapon. America ordered France to evacuate the castle. It was hard to speak with his stiff jaw, but his general nodded and ran back up the silver stairs.

America quickly ran to his sword and kicked it over to his baby brother, who quickly picked it up and started to fight the northerner fairly. America hoped that Canada would be fine without him. If it had not been for the fact that he had to save his people, he would have helped him. He ran out of the castle and picked up two swords from a dead north elf and fought all enemies that got in his way. Every civilian that he found was either injured or near death. Even children were among the scattered bodies in the streets. Enemy soldiers rode around, cutting off heads and trampling over people with their large horses. He quickly ran through the streets and killed all invaders in his path.

-X-

Italy jumped at the sound of knocking on the door. Germany sat in the chair with his forehead rested against his crossed arms on the table. Italy gripped the covers and looked at the door. The knocks didn't stop and whoever stood on the other side of the door was getting impatient. Italy carefully slipped out of the bed and tip-toed to Germany before he started to shake his shoulder to wake him. Only groans and moans followed. The northerner didn't seem to have been effected otherwise. "Wake up."

The blonde shifted and turned his head toward him and one half opened blue eye peeked up at Italy. He looked tired, but he sat up anyway and finally opened his other eye. Italy had felt bad about not trusting the north elf. Since he had stayed in the house with him, he had not tried anything or even mentioned marriage or anything close to that topic. He supposed he was a bit mean to him, but something still told him not trust him. A man who wished to marry someone he didn't know always had something up his sleeve.

Germany took a moment to finally awaken and made his way to the door. Itzo lay at the foot of the bed, still asleep despite the knocks and pounds at the hard door. Italy walked back to the bed and pet the wolf's back. At the door, Germany and some other northerner spoke quietly. All the stuff sounded like reports of a battle. "Germany, I think we found that south elf you wanted us to look for. He was caught sneaking through the snow not far from the town. Unfortunately when we tried to capture him, he killed himself." Italy could hear the other elf whisper and felt a chill go down his back.

"I see," Germany said with slight disappointment.

Italy looked out at the open window and felt his heart race when he saw a body in a stack of wood. The flames grew high and the smell of flesh lingered in the air. Italy rushed to the door and shoved past Germany and the other elf and ran to the wood and fire. He ignored the calls after him and the villagers who stood in his way between him and his destination. The burned face was hard to recognize and the cloths were black from the flames. The build and weight looked the same as his beloved Spain. Italy choked on his tears as his eyes started to sting and water. The pain in his heart grew and grew until he felt like he could not contain it anymore. Everything felt like it spun and blurred away from him and all that was felt near him was a feeling of emptiness and despair. Breathing started to become hard and his lungs felt as if they had been drained of all air and collapsed in his chest.

"Italy?" Germany's voice came from behind him and Italy felt two hands placed on his slumped shoulders. "I'm sorry, Italy." The taller elf pulled him into his arms and held his face against his chest. Italy grabbed a handful of the fur coat and let it catch his tears. The cold breeze burned his face and the smell of burnt skin filled his lungs. He looked back to the body in the fire and could see Spain there, his body untouched by the raging flames while his face was peaceful. Italy wanted to scream, but his lips felt sewn shut. He was voiceless.

Germany held Italy's head against his chest and stroked his hair, his ear crushed against the hard torso. No matter how long they stood there, the body remained Spain's. In his peaceful and content state while the fire died down and the northerners started to clean away the remains. Italy grabbed his own chest over his heart to make sure it was still together. It felt shattered. "T-That can't be him," Italy whispered with a shaky breath. His tears ran down his cheeks and fell down against the north elf's dirty shirt.

"Maybe it isn't." Germany pressed a kiss against the top of Italy's head and held him closer to him. Italy refused to believe that the ashes in the snow ever belong to his beloved. No matter what face stared at him through the flames. It didn't look like him exactly, there was something off and Italy was determined to grasp onto any hope for his love. Even if it was a blind hope, it still comforted him in some way.

Italy looked around him with a blurred vision. All he could see were figures around them, their eyes fixed on him. He pressed closer to Germany and grabbed a handful of his companion's coat. "Please take me away."

"Alright." Germany spoke softly and started to lead him back to the house. Italy dragged his feet with every step and felt like they'd collapse under him. All he wanted to do was sleep until Spain came to rescue him from the nightmare he walked in. Once they reached the door, Italy wasted no time getting in and climbing on the bed. Everything felt like it spun around him and noises blurred together. Italy grabbed onto Itzo before he closed his eyes and embraced the darkness that welcomed him. He wanted to sleep in heavenly peace forever and be with his beloved Spain again.

-X-

Romano let out a long and tired sign as he watched the destruction from the gates. He didn't care if he fought or not, but he didn't want to kill defenseless people just because their lives were better. He glanced over at the eastern elf next to him and felt another sigh escape him. His companion trembled constantly and wrapped his arms tightly around himself. He could hear him cry and sniff. Why was he the one who had to babysit a guy he didn't even know? The best thing to do was think of something to distract him from the current situation. "I'm sure Sweden will take good care of you."

"Huh?" The young blonde looked at him with his hand under his eye to wipe away his tears. He looked back ahead, tears still filled up his brown eyes and he wiped them away again. "He always does." A small laugh escaped the east elf and he looked at him with a small smile. "I guess in a way I could have prevented this from happening. He wrote to me a few days ago and told me to come up north. But I was scared. Everyone told me to never marry a northerner. No matter the reason, that love is blind and often we see too late. Have you ever been so in love with someone that you are afraid that if you spent too much time with them, you'd see sides of them that you didn't wish to see?"

Romano frowned a little and looked ahead. He had been with Spain for a while and never seen anything that he didn't want to see. Except that annoying prejudice thing he has. "No."

"Now I know that it doesn't matter. I love Sweden, no matter what side he shows me. I would be a pretty bad husband if I hated him after he saved me." The elf smiled warmly but tears filled his eyes again when screams came from the city.

"I didn't know Sweden was married. I mean, he never said anything about it." Romano looked off at the silver gates and locked his fingers together. When a northerner was married, everyone knew about it. Though when he thought about it, it wasn't all that surprising. Sweden never talked about anything.

"He is a private person, I guess. Our wedding was secret for the most part. Only my family knows of the marriage. It is looked down upon here. The north doesn't follow heaven and they murder people and force them into marriages, usually to have their money or to exploit."

Romano was about to give the east elf a what for when he interrupted him. "Not that you have a choice. I'm aware of the hardships your people face and I wish you the best. I am angry though, for your kind attacking us and killing people who cannot defend themselves. I think I have at least that right." He quickly looked toward the city when cries and shouts came from a shop deep in the city. Romano glanced toward the fighting before he grabbed the elf's wrist and lead him away from the tall gate. They sat down under a tall, shady tree just out of range of the city where screams and murder could not be heard. For the most part the east elf was quiet and content.

Romano looked around at his surroundings. The east really was beautiful. The lands were flat except for the mountains around the clear castle. The grass was tall and flowers bloomed all around them, ranging in colors and shapes. The vast lands were nothing but trees and open range and in the far distance he could see the giant mountain of the north. The feel of the sun on his skin felt heavenly and warm and there was not a cloud to cover the blue sky. It almost felt like what he imagined heaven to be like. Pleasant and welcoming. It reminded him of the days in the south when he was a young boy. He would play with Italy and Spain all day long in the spring grass. It made him wonder if Spain would have asked Romano to marry him if he was never banished or if his north blood was too much for even him to stand. He wasn't a monster and he was going to prove it to Spain.

The fight seemed to last forever and Romano just wished it was over. The sun set behind the tall mountains and the once blue sky turned black with stars all around. It had been so long since he seen them he almost forgot how they looked and shined. He quickly perked up when he heard people ride through the gates. The north ruler had a wide smile upon his face while Turkey seemed to be unhappy. Romano quickly stood when Sweden and Denmark walked over to them, their clothes stained with blood and their weapons were discarded. Sweden stopped in front of his husband and offered his hand to him. The east elf took his hand and gave him a cautious hug, no doubt because of the blood that spattered on his chest.

Romano looked up at Denmark before he placed his hands on his hips. "How did the battle go?"

"It was terrible, actually." Denmark, for once, looked serious and sad.

Romano paused and glanced at the empty city. It did look awful. Bodies filled the city and horses were burned and destroyed. Hardly any north elves were killed and for once he wished to see some among the bodies. He glanced off to the army as they started to head back toward the north lands. Everyone did not seem to regret the murders of hundreds of innocent people. Romano climbed on Shadow and petted the long black mane before he grabbed two handfuls and closed his watery eyes. Images of Spain and Italy dead in the snow always haunted him. He wanted to end the war as quickly as possible and at least save his love from death, if he could not save his baby brother.

The ride was long and they made camp several miles away from the East Mountains. It was cold and people all huddled by fires and laughed at their victory. Denmark sat with Sweden and the east elf while the creepy westerners all sat at their own fires and whispered to each other. The north ruler stood upon a hill, his head turned upward to the clear sky and his hand pressed against his chest. Romano could only think of that damn southerner, no matter how hard he tried to block him from his mind. All of the things that had happened today, he was sure Spain would find out about them and think Romano killed innocent people. Think he enjoyed cutting off their heads or wedging his sword in a young elves head. He started to feel sick just at the thought.

Romano flopped back against his horse and tried to get to sleep. The night wind blew heavy and rain started to fall from the suddenly cloudy sky. Getting to sleep was going to be fun…

When morning came, Romano groaned at the mud that covered half his face and wiped it off but only managed to smear it on the rest of his face. Stupid rain. He got up and walked over the sleeping northerners and paused when he noticed Sweden and his husband weren't there. Perhaps he should proceed with caution. Romano headed into the woods and felt a small smile spread across his face when he saw a small river. The mud washed off quickly and he started to leave when he heard talking behind some trees across the small river. Romano jumped over the river and peeked around a tree to see Sweden and Finland, they stood facing each other and they held each other's hands.

"I will not make you choose. I know you'd rather be with your people, but I want you to stay here with me." Sweden spoke quietly as the east elf stared up at him with big eyes. He looked as if he was trying to beg for something and took a small step away from the north self.

"But…"

"I know you hate my people. But I don't think I could handle you away during times like these. I wish to protect you." Sweden gently pulled his husband back to him and held him close. His words seemed to work on the elf, because he smiled and snuggled against the tall elf.

Romano pulled away from the tree and looked off to the side. Perhaps that was all he needed to keep Spain with him. Confess that he wished to protect him and maybe he'd see how much he really cared for him. He slowly made his way back to the camp and threw his damp blanket over Shadow's back and mounted him. Everyone still slept, but he didn't have to stick with the army. He wanted to see Spain again. He rode out and didn't stop until he reached the stables in the village. It was close to dark and the snow was deep while the wind blew hard through the town. Spain huddled up in the hay with the fur coat a huge lump on him. A little bit of brown puff popped out from under the cover and Romano dismounted and shook the southerner until he peeked out at him with squinted eyes. "A little late to be sleeping in."

"I was going to bed actually. You're back early." Spain sat up while he yawned and flopped back against the straw stack while he rubbed his eyes. "I didn't think you'd get here until tomorrow." Spain looked at him paused. "Why are you smiling?"

Romano shrugged him off, but he was just happy that Spain lived through the few days he was gone. He feared that the cold-blooded elf would freeze to death after the first night. He shifted and sat down cross-legged from his companion and watched him. Spain watched him and seemed to find Romano's happiness amusing. "Spain. I want you to stay here with me."

Spain paused and frowned a little, his expression a mix of confusion and stun. "Why?"

"Do I need a reason? I want to protect you." Romano wrapped his arms around his legs. Why did love have to be so damn difficult? Just the words 'I love you' seemed to feel so heavy and the heart was too easy to break, one had to be careful when they confessed their love. He really wished the damn thing left him alone. He didn't need this crap.

Spain laughed a little, he sounded warm and amused. Romano frowned slightly. The east elf seemed easier to convince. "I'm honored, Romano. But I can take care of myself just fine. I am a warrior, after all."

"What about your torn up clothes? You look like you like you got your ass kicked." Romano wasn't about to let Spain win this argument.

The southerner looked down at himself and shrugged. His green eyes looked back at him and a smile was spread across his tan face. "That came from defending myself. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm still alive despite 'getting my ass kicked'. And I got most of this from falling down a cliff and landing on a pile of rocks."

"Well, then I'll protect you from damn rocks then."

Spain raised his eyebrow slightly and tilted his head to the side. The damn elf won the damn argument.

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That's it for now. I hope everyone likes it. It was kinda hard to write and I'm having some trouble with some things, don't know if it's obvious in the writing.


	10. Chapter 10: Moving on

**La'Keera: **Thanks, sis. You won't get to see how well America and Russia know each other until I write the winter storm one. I'm not sure whether to try and work on it now or just wait until I finish this…

**Mighty Agamemnon: **Wow, thanks so much. Yeah, I didn't think about it being too hot for them. I guess because it isn't really hot in the East at the moment, I didn't think about it affecting the northerners. But it would because it isn't snowy and really cold. Thanks for pointing that out, I'll have to go back and fix up a few things.

* * *

The days started to pass by quickly with work and preparations for their next battle. Romano rarely had any time from his endless chores to spend a moment with Spain and the northerner was always grumpy when he saw him. Spain leaned back against the stack of hay and closed his eyes. All he could think of was how Romano looked when he returned from the east. It was that smile he always had when he was little and would run through the southern city. It was memories like that Spain always held close to him. It made him smile when he remembered the two brother's together and happy. But then that horrible memory always followed. Romano being carried away from all he knew. Spain was unable to stop it, despite his pleas; they still sent the northern elf away.

Spain always hated that one. The sad face of Romano and the tear-soaked face of Italy always left his heart aching. He would have loved to see the southern side of Romano, what the joyful and civilized lifestyle would have shaped the young man into. A respectable young man who would never be caught dead stealing or cursing. But would that be what Romano would turn into if he had not been taken? The northern blood that he embraced so much may have never been tamed. So Romano being sent away was probably for the best. But Spain didn't think the northern lifestyle was fair.

The people roamed the streets with no care. Not one ounce of happiness or respect. To be a southern walking with them was to be a rabbit among wolves. They all glared and snarled at him when he dared to leave the safety of the stables. Even when he tried to be proper to a young woman, he got insulted. They must have indeed hated the south. He could not help where he was born or what miserable fates they had to endure. Though pity did fill his heart, he was powerless to help them. They were all driven to savagery and poor living. Romano's fate and destiny always weighed heavy on his mind. The northerner didn't, out of anyone, deserve to suffer the trouble times.

Spain wished he could convince Romano to go down south with him. Show him that it was only fear that made the southerners keep northerners away. If shown kindness, then Spain's people would return the gesture. He was sure of it. But whether Northerners could actually perform an act of kindness was the real question. They all believed that it was survival of the fittest. Kill or be killed seemed to be their way of things. Spain looked out of the entrance to the stables. Romano was out in the streets, carrying pails of frozen water into a building. He supposed being engaged to the northerner was not as bad as he led on. As long as he would be free when he found Italy.

Though with every passing day, he started to fear for his dear Italy. He could not leave the village to find him and the chances of survival by himself were slim. If his betrothed died in the cold to find him, he'd never forgive himself. He wished he had awaken Italy and told him not to look for him if he never came back, to stay and know that he would return to him when he could. He should have told him the truth and how dearly he meant to him. There was no sun without his Italy and now he had to walk alone, following the dim light of the moon. Hoping for the sun to rise again.

"Happy thoughts?" Romano walked into the stables and sat down next to him. His new company shivered slightly and huddled up under his fur vest. Spain watched him for a moment, trying to read the northerner. Then, in defeat, he flopped back and tossed some straw to the side.

"No. Just about my poor Italy and his fate."

Romano growled and tossed a piece of coal across the stables and into the stall on the other side of them. His brown eyes were narrowed into a cold glare and the corners of his mouth curved down slightly. The thought of Italy's possible death must have been on Romano's mind as well. The northerner had been quiet about it and seemed to try and change the subject when it was brought up. He never seemed to look for Italy or ask people if they had seen. But surely Romano would wish his brother to be found.

"Of course you are, you always think about Italy. It is no shock that you are always depressed looking." Romano threw another rock and huffed up. His collar poking up against his cheek while his arms were crossed tightly and his whole body seemed to stiffen.

"Should I not be worried? He is my betrothed and I will find him. I know he isn't dead." Spain narrowed his eyes slightly at the northerner and crossed his arms tightly. "Do you even still love your brother? He is out there and you don't seem to even try to find him. What if he is in this village and has been claimed? What then, huh?"

Romano turned away from him before he stood and glared at the entrance of the stables. The wind gusted through and Romano's red hair danced in the breeze. Was the north elf as cold as the frozen snow? Every bit of sorrow and tears seemed to vanish not long after he discovered his brother was missing. But surely Romano still felt love for his dear brother, he may have just been too proud to admit it. Love seemed to be an emotion all northerners deemed 'pointless'.

"What a stupid thing to ask, of course I love my brother. He is my only family left. But maybe if you weren't so caught up in thinking about him than you'd see that no matter his fate we can't do anything. I am tired of being reminded every day. Every minute I try to find something else to think about, but everything in my damn life is terrible." Romano glared toward the people out in the streets and a small growl could be heard from him. Spain pulled himself up and watched the northerner with slight surprise. His brows furrowed and his body stood stiff against the cold snow that carried along gracefully. Everything seemed to be calm and quiet, as if the world had stop in a single moment. Romano looked back at him with fiery brown eyes and frowned at him.

"You cannot blame me for asking. You haven't even tried to find him."

Romano glared at him and walked back over before he grabbed a basket of coal and lifted it up against his hip. "You haven't been following me, so how do you know I haven't looked? I can't work while in doubt of my brother's life. I have just accepted the fact I'll probably never see him again and pray he is alive and safe. I'm sorry if I don't have time to cry, but there is a war going on." The northerner lugged the basket out and disappeared into the crowd of people. Stubborn elf.

Spain blew out his breath before he stood and wrapped the black fur coat around himself. The stalls and the stable itself were messy and smelled of horse manure. The blizzard started to die down and he could see the snow-covered land through the frost covered windows. Italy was out there and he had to find him. No matter what Romano had said, no matter the doubt that followed. He'd hold his Italy once again. The day past with storms and heavy snow. People in the streets became dark figures that walked in the powdered mist. It soon became dark and the wind that blew in the stables was colder and felt like it bit at his bare ears. Spain huddled up in the hay against Shadow and pet the large beast. Romano came in later, covered in snow and glaring at the wall. Spain felt like he'd jump out of his skin when the northerner sat down next to him and snuggled his cold nose against his bare neck.

"Ahh," Spain said before he moved away a little at the sudden cold that pressed against his side. Romano, despite Spain's protests, pulled him back and held on tightly. He wanted to push the northerner away but stopped when he remembered all the times Romano had helped him keep warm. Spain held his companion close and rubbed his side as he shivered and huddled up in the fur. His dirty face nested against his shirt while his eyes were closed. Spain looked his company over before he reached up and stroked the smudged cheek. Romano was a strong-minded young man, but despite his pride, tears still slipped down the side of his face. Spain's heart started to ache at the sight of the crying elf. Perhaps he had been too hard on him before. Every time he thought about the north, their coldness and savage-like behavior seemed to vanish when he looked at the young man. It wasn't the south in him that made him civil. It was just who he was.

"Romano, I'm sorry. I never meant to doubt your love for Italy. Forgive me?" Spain whispered and looked down in the northerner's brown eyes. He felt a small smile spread across his face at the annoyed face that stared up at him. He started to doubt he'd get forgiveness.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just let me sleep and stop staring at me." Romano laid his head on his shoulder with his face turned down and covered by the coat. Spain wrapped the young man up and tucked the cover around his back and held him close. Every warm breath blown on his neck reminded him of the summer days in his home. The feel of the sun on his back and the touch of his love's hand on his own as they walked through the palace garden. He'd bring both brothers to the peaceful land, as he promised their grandfather before his passing. Romano gripped tighter to him and pressed his face against his neck while small mumbles followed. He was cute when he didn't complain and glare.

Spain tried to drift off and think of all the things that could bore him. But everything led to his bedmate, who slept soundly against his left side. He had to fight the north. But every time he thought to slip away, the sight of Romano dead in the snow stopped him. He couldn't stand to be the death of the young elf, no matter what side they each stood on. The northerner had to be protected, though that meant facing his own kind in battle. Was it worth the risk? To be banished as a traitor and forever forbidden to see Italy.

All that had to be done was end the war and prevent innocent people's horrible deaths. He would think about his fate afterward. Loud crashing and metal pounding metal echoed through the quiet town and the whistle of the wind surrounded them inside the open building. The cracked windows rattled and some doors to empty stalls hit the wood posts. Horses neighed and Shadow jumped slightly and looked toward the doorway. Footsteps were heard in the stables as the horses whined and stomped on the rock floor. Spain held the northerner close when a tall westerner stood in front of their stall. The darkness hid his face and he remained a dark figure. His long cloak whipped in the hard breeze and the black hood covered his face where only the tip of his nose could be seen against the moon light. The man continued walking and soon rode out on a black northern horse.

Spain shook his head and finally fell asleep. The crashes of morning work always woke him up, but he didn't feel like moving. Cursing and loud rattles filled up the long building. Spain groaned and peeked out from under his covers and squinted at the light. Romano tried to drag a large crate to the entrance but seemed to making little progress. He grunted and groaned as he tried to push or pull it forward. Spain smiled slightly and forced himself up out of the warm hay bed and to the northerner. "Do you need help?"

"I'm perfectly fine on my own," he said between grunts and pushed the crate with all he had. Pride always seemed to be a bad quality. Spain gently pushed the younger man away and pushed the box. It was a lot larger than the others and probably weighted more than a hundred pounds. He groaned at the lack of movement and felt the urge to kick it, but a broken toe was not worth it. The northerner grabbed the edge of the crate and tugged on it with a look of determination on his face.

"Why don't you just move them into smaller crates?" Spain picked up a piece of coal and glanced around the stalls and paused at the tall black horse in a stall next to a giant north horse. Perhaps he just imagined the person last night or perhaps they just took a short ride out in the wild blizzard. He shrugged it off and turned back to the northerner who managed to get the box three feet from its original spot. He walked to help the stubborn elf and managed to slowly get it out of the stables.

-X-

The snow fell down like pouring rain. Italy stared out at it as Itzo stood on his hind legs behind him while his head rested on his shoulder. Everything seemed quiet and unwelcoming as the battle against the south drew near. Germany rarely left the house and when he did it was to bring food or when some solider called him. He seemed to be of high rank around the village. He looked back over at the tall blonde, who sat at the table and wrote on some paper. His cheek was still red from where Italy slapped him when he woke up with the northerner in his bed. Perhaps he had over reacted, since both were dressed. But every time the northerner stood near him, his heart beat started to quicken. The man was stronger and larger than him, he could easily win against him.

Ever since the burning, Germany had seemed to be more gentle and only spoke when spoken too. Italy carefully shoved the wolf off his shoulder and walked to the table. The northerner's pale blue eyes stare down at the paper and not once glanced at him coming. Italy watched him carefully and put his hand over his companion's work. Germany looked up at him with slight surprise, his eyebrows lifted upward. "Germany. Why are you so nice to me? Is it because Spain is…Spain is…missing?"

The northerner watched him curiously before he rested his hands on his knees under the table and looked down at the papers. "I treat you how I think you should be treated. Whether Spain is alive or dead, this is how I'd treat you." He pulled the papers out from under his hand. His eyes searched for where he left off with a frown upon his stained face. "You are an elf like I and therefore should be treated like one, no matter where you are from."

"So I guess we are still engaged than?" Italy turned back to the bed and watched as the wolf jumped on it and made himself comfortable in the middle of the bed. The cold draft sent chills down his spine as he wrapped his arms around himself to keep warm.

"No. I believe that ended when you refused. You hang on to the memory of your betrothed. It would be disrespectful to claim you when your heart belongs to another. Even if he is dead."

Italy closed his tear-filled eyes and tried to block out the memory of that day, the body in the flames that stared at him. He wished to erase the image of that person, to put a new face on him. But it had to Spain. Though he fought it, he could not take it anymore. He was trapped in a land he did not wish to be in with people who would violate him if they could. The long days that he had been there he wished to be back in his home, back in the arms of his beloved Spain. Italy knew in his heart Spain would want him to move on, but he couldn't. Not after the love they shared, the kisses he still felt against his lips. Every inch of his body still carried the feel of his beloved. He didn't wish anyone to overwrite it, to replace it.

"Italy?" Germany's hand was soon placed on his shoulder and Italy realized he was on his knees next to the broken table. The hard rock floor under him was uncomfortable and his knees felt as if he fell down on them without realizing. The northerner picked him up with his legs over one arm and his head rested against his shoulder. Tears filled Italy's eyes and his vision blurred, but he could still see the concerned face of his company. Germany shifted him in his arms and held him like a child might be carried, his weight resting mostly on the man's hip. Italy bit his lip as the northerner lifted his dirty hand up and wiped away the tears on his cheek. "Do not cry."

"Spain is not dead," Italy spoke shakily and gripped onto Germany's fur vest. He felt his body tremble as the hand slide down the side of his face to his neck. The thumb stroking his jaw and chin softly. Italy felt his heart stop as the blue eyes stared at him with some compassion.

"He is a lucky man to have such a loyal and dedicated lover." The northerner carried him to the bed before he gently set him down and kneeled by the bed. Ever since Germany had saved him that one day, Italy had always mixed him in with the other northerners but he had since then proven to be better than any of the elves in the frozen village. He had always showed him kindness and Italy knew he had been rude to him. He put his hands on either side of the man's large head and pulled him closer to press a kiss against his dirty forehead. He closed his eyes and wished he would vanish from the cold house and see Spain again. Just to tell him that he would always love him.

"Thank you, Germany." Italy pulled back to see the elf's face and paused when he stared up at him, completely stunned looking. Almost speechless. "Why do you wish to marry me? Is it just to protect me from your people?"

"Well, we did just meet only a few weeks ago…" Germany looked off to the side and rested his hands on either side of Italy's legs as he slowly started to stand.

Italy quickly placed his hands on the northerner's shoulders to hold him down and stared at his face with worry. He felt his heart sink into his chest when he looked at the man's face, but anymore he couldn't tell if it was just pain or something else. Something more powerful. Something that gave him hope. "That is not an answer."

"I don't know. I have a feeling you'll be trouble for me later, I constantly worry that you'll try to escape and someone hurts you. But despite that, I find myself drawn to you. Probably your warm atmosphere. I haven't had any since my parents died. It makes me feel like an elf instead of a monster."

Italy watched him and slowly slid his hands down to his own knees and watched him go back to the table. Everything felt like the world stopped just for him to decide what to do. Let go of the man he had loved his whole life forever and give himself to a man who needed him, who saw him as something he needed to be good. Or hold out for his beloved Spain and wait forever until he finally found him and use the northerner's generosity to keep himself self and sound. Itzo stared at him and wagged his tail happily as if to tell him to choose Germany. When he looked over at the northerner he continued his work and read whatever was written on the paper. Could he really just forget his love for Spain and chance a marriage of unhappiness? He knew he could not, but he didn't wish to waste his life away, it wasn't what Spain would have wanted. A decision had to be made.

"Germany. If Spain turned out to be alive and he wanted me back, would you let me go?" Italy slowly made his way to Germany, his gut felt like it was twisted in a thousand knots and the heart he once thought to be shattered beat quickly and felt as if it'd fly out of his chest. Germany laughed quietly and told him he would. Italy was scared to go by words and promises, but he had little left to lose. If Spain really was dead, than he'd never see him again. If he lived…He'd just run away with him and know Spain would defeat Germany in a fight for him. "Then…you can marry me. But, you have to promise not to treat me differently or you'll never see me again. So don't try to take any advantages because we are married."

The northerner looked up at him then back at his work. He didn't seem as excited as Italy thought he would be. After he set the quill down and stood, Germany looked down at him and put his hands on his upper arms. Italy wondered if he should be scared. Germany looked his face over before he leaned down toward him. Italy quickly closed his eyes and put his hands on the northerner's chest to push him away but paused when he felt his lips press against Italy's forehead and then pull away. "Then you will stay here?"

"Yes," Italy whispered and looked down at the black rock floor. Everything started to spin a bit. He was terrified of what he was about to get into and feared that once he was tied down to the north elf, he'd show a different side, his real northern side. Germany left shortly after and didn't come back until night fall. Italy nestled deep into the straw bed and snuggled against Itzo. The wolf had seemed to bond with him and slept on his side of the bed instead of Germany's. It got a remark from the northerner and it seemed his now new betrothed did not like it. Germany sat down at the desk and rested his head on the table. Italy gripped the covers with some fear and glanced down at the sleeping wolf. "Germany? You…you can sleep here."

"You won't slap me again?" Italy heard Germany ask with some sarcasm, but he seemed serious for the most part. Italy wanted to laugh a bit, but bit back his tongue and nodded. He stiffened slightly when he felt the north elf enter the bed and wrap his arms around his waist to hold him close. It was nice once he got use to it and trusted the northerner. He hoped that if his beloved Spain was truly dead, that he may find peace with the northerner.

-X-

Morning painted the sky with orange as the sun started to come up. Austria stared down at his grand city and prayed it'd fare better the east one, though he doubted it. The north ruler was not like any other or so he was told. His soldiers all cried out for war and to kill the ruler Russia. While his fiancée pleaded him to spare him. That was why they agreed for marriage after all. But it seemed that the freedom of his people wasn't the only reason Russia wished to kill them. Austria looked back into his room at the letter that lay on his desk. He didn't want to open it, since it was from someone in the northlands, but he had to see what they wished. He took it and headed down to the throne room where his confidants would be. Spain had vanished again, no doubt to find Italy and Norway never returned from the trip. China was found by the east and was now resting from a terrible sickness and frostbite.

Ukraine sat in the chair next to the throne, her face was blank and her eyes wandered off toward the far left wall. It was going to be a dull marriage. He walked to his throne and sat down before he ripped open the letter. It seemed that someone wished to betray the north and wanted to aid Austria in killing Russia. But the mystery person could not until they knew for certain that Russia would die from the battle. Austria glanced at his fiancée and frowned. He could not seek help from her. The letter was unsigned and did not have much written on it. Out of anyone, he would have guessed it to be one of the pervious ruler's sons. Seeking their right to be crowned, no doubt.

"Do you plan to attack my brother?" Ukraine looked up at him and gripped the arm of her chair. She looked desperate and would probably do anything to save her brother, but Austria had to think of his people. The death of Russia was best for all, though it pained him to hurt Ukraine after agreeing to spare her brother. He had to go back on his word.

"No. I will wait until he comes here. If he wishes for war, than he will have to face the warm weather here. He may regret it after discovering just how hot it is compared to his mountain."

"Hmm, yes. It is rather hot here." Ukraine rubbed the back of her neck and tried to cool off with her hand fan. "My brother is not a bad man."

"Say that to my dead men in the eastern lands and the grand glass castle. I guess since you didn't see what he did, you can still say he is not a 'bad man'," America said from across the room. He sat in a chair next to his general France and his little brother, Canada. America rubbed his healed forehead. Austria had heard that the castle was frozen over. It was impossible, but no one seemed to wish to explain how it happened. He looked back down at the letter and stuck it in his jacket pocket. He'd just keep it to himself until Ukraine had left. He did not wish to distress her more than necessary.

He watched as Ukraine tried to defend her brother against the angry easterners. Someone had suggested marrying Ukraine before defeating Russia to keep her there, but Austria was not sure if he wanted to be married to Ukraine. Let alone marry her even though he planned to break his promise. He started to wonder if he should have even agreed to something he was not sure he could keep. He'd kill Russia for his people in a heartbeat and he could tell that Ukraine loved her brother very much, that she would kill Austria in a heartbeat if she felt it could save her brother.

Austria watched America as he sat quietly in the corner and listened to France and Ukraine fight about Russia. It seemed whenever the name was mentioned, the east ruler flinched slightly and rubbed his jaw. But his eyes seemed to hide something. A dark secret.

* * *

I'm the queen of Clift-hangers! Anyway, I hope this is good. I haven't been feeling well, so that is why it is kinda taken me a while to post this.


	11. Chapter 11: Heading South

**La'Keera: **Thanks so much. I think I have a small idea how Hungary and Austria are going to get together, so let's see what happens. 3

**Silan Haye: **No, it's fine. Thanks for letting me know. I guess I was a little worried about making something happen too soon and people wondering if Spain really loved Italy or not. But I'll make sure that it gets entertaining soon, thanks. :D

Not sure how good this chapter is. I've been so busy with stuff that it threw my mind off a bit. I really hope that this is good enough.

Some new people are in this chapter. Oohhh…

* * *

Spain leaned back against the hay as he heard people whisper and gossip outside the stable doors and windows. Romano had been quiet since he returned that night from a trip that kept him away for a few days. Spain wondered what had happened while he was away. The time for battle against the southern city drew closer and closer. It was only five days away and people started to prepare. Last minute weddings were common. Some were forced marriages and others were just to marry for marrying sake. Spain tossed some straw down at his side and looked over at the northerner as he swept the hallway of the stable. Romano cleaned away scattered coal and horse manure out of the pathway. His brown eyes stared down at the floor as he cleared away all the dirt. The sun then broke through the dark clouds for a moment to shine a white light down on the north elf. He almost looked like an angel against the beam.

Romano looked over at him and raised an eyebrow slightly. His face was covered in black smudges that seemed to add on and on until there was hardly an inch of his face not covered. In some small way he would be considered handsome, if he did not look as if he had not bathed a day in his life. What made it worse was that he probably hadn't been bathed since he left the south lands. The sunlight was soon dimmed behind the dark clouds and the people in the streets shouted and yelled out for coal, iron or to move out of their way. Other than the calls and hammering, it was rather peaceful. The northern wind was not as clean as the south and the bitter nights were far from pleasant. But the land covered in the stainless white snow was a sight. It ground seemed to always have a heavy blanket of the powder.

"Hey, Spain. Get off your lazy butt." Romano walked over before he grabbed Spain's coat sleeve and pulled him to his feet. Spain felt nervous with the look Romano gave him and the young man motioned down to a crate of coal. "Make yourself useful."

"You wish to make me work out in the cold?" Spain asked with astonishment before he picked up the heavy large crate.

"You'll be fine once you start moving," Romano said as he nudged him eagerly of the stables. When he glanced back, the northerner motioned for him to go before he despaired behind the stables walls. He had a bad feeling but continued down the street while peering into the open shops for wherever the crate belonged. North elves watched him as he lugged the heavy box passed doorways until he reached the blacksmith.

The cold winter wind blew heavy and fast as he unloaded the coal into fire. The north elf pounded on a long piece of metal as he bossed him around the shop as if he was a northerner and didn't seem to care if he was not use to the labor in the freezing cold. Spain's joints always stiffened when in the cold. He felt twenty years older whenever he had to move about in the snow. After some time of being ordered around and carrying coal to the fire and being watched by passing elves, Spain headed back to the stables to rest and chew out Romano for making him work.

The snow had gotten deeper everyday and now came up to his knees if he wandered too far out of the village. Young children could disappear in the snow if one did not keep an eye on them. The smell of burning flesh and stew that smelt like foul meat lingered in the air like a heavy fog. It then was suddenly changed to the sweet smell of honeysuckles and lavenders. It filled his lungs with the freshness of his home land and the meadow outside the city. Perhaps the cold had made him crazy. He followed the heavenly scent until he reached the doors of the old stable. Spain walked in and paused at the sight of Romano leaned over in a stall. Only the side of his backend could be seen and long groans followed by some loud pops and more unpleasant noises from the north elf.

"I suppose you are just going to stand there and watch me?" Romano grumbled as he stood slowly before he placed his hands on his hips and looked over at Spain with a slight wince. His cooper eyes gave him a quick look over before they glanced back at the stall he came from. The smell of flowers and freshness still lingered in the air and came from the stall. Spain made his way over to where the elf stood and paused at what greeted him in the booth. A tightly woven straw bed with flowers next to the bed and the little tattered blanket lay on top, its holes and rips made it more like a piece of cloth then anything that someone could keep warm with.

"Where did you get the flowers? I didn't know the north had any."

Romano tossed his hands in the air and rolled his eyes before he flopped down on the bed and closed his eyes. His body nestled into it while his hands rested behind his head. "After all the work, that is the question you ask? No 'thank you' or 'wow, amazing'. Just where did you get the fucking flowers?"

Despite the grumpy look on the young man's face, Spain was still left in wonder. Sure, they were just flowers and Spain would not give much of a thought if it hadn't been for the fact that he knew they were southern flowers. They grew far out of the woods in the large meadow between North and South. So Romano had to have been in the lands of the south to get them. "I am just surprised that you dared to go into the southlands to get flowers, of all things. I guess it seems kind of weird."

Romano shrugged him off once more before he closed his eyes and rested his arms behind his head. Spain felt a small smile spread across his face as the northerner tiredly wrapped the tattered blanket around himself while his eyes were still closed. "Making a straw bed couldn't have been that hard."

"You make one and tell me how easy it is," Romano grumbled and peeked up at him with half-open eyes and a frown on his face. "You could at least say thank you and be happy." The northerner closed his eyes and nestled back into the bed with a long sigh. His body trembled under the covers and his breath sounded a bit shaky. The wind that slipped inside felt colder than it had before and it seemed every day the temperatures lowered and lowered.

"Thank you, Romano. I guess I have been a little unkind to you since I've been here. You are a truly wonderful friend."

Romano looked up at him with an unpleasant look upon his face before he turned to his side. He did not seem to like being called his friend too much. Nor did Spain for a reason unknown to him. Romano was a good friend, a person who had been treating him fairly well since he came back. And that was what he was. A friend. He could never be anything more than a friend. Spain shook his head at his silly thoughts and flopped down next to the north elf, which upon Spain's fall, gripped onto his side and snuggled up against him tightly. His dirty face pressed against Spain's sleeve. He looked much like his younger brother. They had the same jaw and nose, despite Romano's stained face and dirty hair, the northerner still had beautiful features.

The past few days were hectic and long. The northerners started to head for battle against the south. Spain did not wish to fight his people, but to protect Romano. Surely his ruler would understand. If Italy was gone forever, then he had to protect the young north elf. He promised Rome he'd protect his grandsons and after everything he had done for him, he had to keep that promise. Romano shifted and grumbled sleepily, his head now rested on Spain's shoulder and his face nestled deep into the fur coat.

It was peaceful and the smell of sweet scent of flowers lingered around the bed. The noises outside slowly drifted into a quiet blur. Spain soon fell asleep as well.

-X-

The day had been quiet and while the northerners prepared the upcoming battle, Italy sat silently at the window and stared out blankly as people worked outside. Germany started to feel some doubt about the arrangement. The southern elf had not spoken much and rarely interacted with anyone, even with his freedom to roam about. He started to feel like he was keeping Italy as a prisoner, even though he wished for the elf to roam and try to enjoy his short time there.

Germany rested his head in hand as he watched the young elf stare at the people outside with curiosity. The days since his arrival had been somewhat brighter and more enjoyable, even if he had to keep a close eye on him and worry every second that he was going to do something stupid. Beside the constant worry that the young elf was to try and escape or somehow hurt himself, Germany's life did seem less lonesome. He smiled as the south elf breathed on the window and stared in amazement at the fog that now covered it. Perhaps he had found someone to spend the little bit of time he had left with. Italy was not the brightest of people and he seemed naïve and a little slow. He was just a frightened young man who ended up in the wrong place. And Germany, no matter how much he did not wish to, had to be very patient with him and understand his pain of losing someone.

"Germany? Are you planning on going to the next battle?" Italy looked over at him with huge gold eyes and slouched on the side of the bed. The look of slight worry on his company's face made him wonder if he had started to like Germany.

"I have to. Even though we won against the east, we lost a lot of men. Though I may not wish it, I'll have to go and make sure that I bring back as many comrades as I can." Germany looked back at the table covered in reports and permission slips that he had to read and sign. He always hated war, people fighting for stupid reasons and seeing so many friends and allies die over something that could have been resolved by leaders speaking to another. But there was a part of him that craved fighting, the anger he could release on someone. People who lived good and fair lives and mock him with their money and warm homes. Never having to worry about whose life to take and who to spare from a horrible fate. He looked up at the black coal walls and wood lining to see snow slip in from the cracks.

"Germany. I wanted to thank you for everything." Italy stared down at the floor as he fiddled his own fingers and shifted from one foot to the other. His reddish brown hair still shined and smelled faintly of soap. His body trembled slightly as he kneeled down next to Germany, his head still tilted downward. "I-if you are going to battle and may not return…Then…then we can get married before you go. I know that it would be unfair to promise myself to you and you never actually have me."

Germany blew out his breath as he brushed back his loose hair before he looked down at the young elf. The southerner still stared down, not even daring to look up at him. Germany had a feeling that Italy still feared him or at least did not trust him. His heart belonged to the Spain guy. To marry him would only trap him in a marriage he did not want just to protect him. Italy would probably rather die than be married to him. "I would never actually have you anyway. You belong to another man, even if I wish you to forget him, you will always belong to him."

Italy looked up at this, his eyes widened slightly and his hands clasped together in his lap. His expression was sad and he sank back on his feet. Perhaps in a small way, the southerner did like him. But Germany had to think of the future more than present. And for both of them, marriage may not have been what they wanted. Germany would never be what Italy wanted; he could never be that man that he always thought of. And Germany didn't have time for a spouse who would have to rely on him. He had too many people he had to worry about as it was.

Germany stood up and grabbed the southerner's small hands before he pulled the young man up. The elf stared up at him with the worry that was always in his eyes, every time Germany got near him. The southerner looked as if he feared he'd hurt him. Germany slowly backed him up to the bed as the restlessness in Italy's eyes grew and grew. Italy grabbed his arm desperately and dug his heels into the rock floor. "How can you say I'd have you when you don't even trust me?"

"I'm sorry, Germany. I am afraid. All my life, I've been told how horrible and unkind the northerners are. Even the people that seem nice are really bad. And when I came here and that man…" Italy trailed off as his eyes stared toward to the empty bed and his body shook under Germany's grip. "…I know that you deserve my trust, but I'm scared to open up to someone after Spain. What if I do and I forget him, not love him anymore."

Germany sighed heavily and cupped the young man's head in his hands and stroked the soft brownish hair. Tear filled eyes stared up at him and chapped, broken lips trembled as his thumb traced along the southerner's jaw. "That is called moving on, Italy. Every person has to let it happen or we all lose ourselves. Do not be afraid to heal your wounds. I will try to help, though I'm not very good at this kind of thing." Italy nodded slightly with tears slipping down his cheeks. Germany placed a soft kiss on his forehead before he made the southerner sit down and rubbed his slumped shoulders. He was never good at dealing with upset people and it seemed he always managed to find himself with them. "Just rest. I have to head out tomorrow and I would like to be ready beforehand."

He walked back to the table and started to gather up the papers to stack them neatly on one end of the surface. Thoughts of battle were always on his mind. After his parent's deaths, he grew angry and now he finally had a chance to kill those who wronged his family. But the guiltiest person was the one he served under. Though Russia had some ties that linked to his mother and father's death, Germany had to let it rest for the future of his people. He knew their ruler would bring them out of the frozen hell they were in. Even if he did not belong there, Russia was the only one strong enough to defeat the south for good.

"Germany?"

Germany laid the papers perfectly on the others, evenly and straight as he heard Italy make his way from the bed to the table. It wasn't a long trip. "Germany? If-if you are going to be leaving tomorrow…than we can marry today." Italy looked toward the front door when Germany turned to him. The southerner looked uncertain of his decision, but seemed to determine to do it. Germany nodded slowly and held out his hand to the elf. Italy reluctantly took it and followed him out of the house. People in the streets paused their work to watch him lead the nervous southerner through the strong cold winds. The town manager, who sorted out job listings and kept records of the dead, sat quietly as he looked papers over.

He did not bother to look up at them when they entered the drafty building. His eyes seemed fixed on a piece of paper in his hand while he shifted in his seat to turn away from them slightly. "If you are another couple that wishes to be married, then I shall slit my wrists." The blue eyed man looked up at them over his wrinkled paper and frowned when he gave them a look over. He muttered a curse word and stood up. "Alright, let us start the torture."

The 'wedding' was nonexistent and Germany could tell that Italy was disappointed in the whole event. They were shooed out by the town manager and they headed back to the house. Germany wrapped his arm around Italy's shoulder and held him close to his body. He wanted to make sure that everyone knew not to mess with Italy. Once they reached the house, Italy went straight for the bed and huddled under the covers. The lumps of blankets shock violently as the sound of chattering teeth came from the bed. Germany could not figure out how he made it up north on his own.

-X-

Morning came loudly as the soldiers crammed into the stables. Romano looked up at them with one eye, his other covered by Spain's coat. He had to get up and start the march like the others. He had hoped that his laziness in the last battle would make others see him as useless and not want him to come. But unlike the East, the South had an army. A big one. Everyone was needed in the fight. Only women with young children did not saddle up. More westerners came and filled the stables with their aura of magic. One stuck out the most. His hair was a total mess and his clothes were sloppy and torn. His face as blank as he helped soldiers with their horses, except for the west ruler, then the western stranger made himself busy with a stack of hay that he mindlessly plucked at.

Once the stables only had a few people, Romano got up and went to Shadow's stall. The western elf still stood at the hay and ignored all the people that passed him. He glanced at the door when new people came in and finally made his way over to Romano. "Do you need help?"

"Help?" Romano looked at the westerner with some surprise. "It's not the first time around my horse, you know." He turned back to Shadow and felt the horse judging him. He was a bit rude, but he didn't like people thinking him weak. Too weak to take care of his own horse. He didn't even need to. All he did was flopped the tattered blanket on the horse's back and he was ready.

"I hope there is enough room for me on there." Spain's voice came from right behind him and looked over to see the southerner no more than a foot from him. "I am not staying behind this time."

"What are you talking about? You stay here where it is safe." Romano grumbled and smoothed out the blanket on the horse's back. The last thing he needed was to worry about Spain dying on the battlefield. It was one of the damn reasons he was keeping him around. He just knew that the bastard would go and join up with his southern buddies and defend his land. He was stupid that way.

"I can defend myself, Romano. I have been to battles, I've killed people. You do not have to protect me, though it is very honorable and kind. It is my turn to protect you." Spain lifted his hand up when he noticed Romano about to yell at him to go back to the bed and behave. "I will journey through the harsh weather and follow you if I must." Spain took a couple steps to his side and stood right next to him. His body only an inch away from his and his breath was warm against his ear. Romano's heart raced a little when the southerner placed his hand on his shoulder and whisper softly in his ear. "Please, Romano. I owe it to someone to keep you safe."

"Italy?" Romano asked irritably as he crossed his arms. His brother seemed to be all the damn man thought about.

"No, actually. Though he would want you to be safe. I was thinking of your grandfather. I promised him I'd do all in my power to find a way to save you and return you back to your home."

Romano glared at him slightly, his heart felt like it suddenly stopped beating and he shoved away from Spain as he pulled Shadow out of his stall by his lead rope. "If that is the case, then why did you wish to leave without me? Why is it all of a sudden you remember making this promise when before you didn't seem to care if I died here? Tell me why you really want to come."

Spain watched him for a moment, his head hung slightly as the cold wind shot through the stables harshly. "I was blinded by prejudice, hate, guilt and worry. But realizing that you are the last of your grandfather's family…I have to redeem myself after Italy's disappearance. I have to keep you alive to honor that promise I made to your grandfather."

"That is it?" Romano asked with some doubt. He still didn't believe that his grandfather would even care about his fate. He was the less talented one, he was forgettable.

The southerner nodded and walked closer to Romano, until he was a foot from him and gave a small smile. One that would never suggest that they just had an argument. "Besides, I'm your betrothed now. It's my duty to protect you."

Romano growled quietly and walked out of the stables with Spain on his heels. The army was just barely in sight and their tracks were almost covered by the heavy fall of snow. Why was it every time the army left there was a blizzard? He though as he made his way through the deep white powder and stiffened when he felt a hand grab his. Spain held onto his hand tightly and trailed behind him with his arm over his face. He guessed it was his job to keep the bastard warm. He shook his head and stopped his horse to mount him and waited for Spain to do the same. The southerner sat behind him, his arms wrapped around him tightly. Romano was a small shield against some of the snow, but the southerner still shivered.

They reached the army later in the day and the snow finally calmed. The long stretch of people seemed to never end and most of the people in the back were west elves while a few northerners lingered in with the magical elves. Romano could see two black blobs a mile or so away that he guessed were the two rulers. Spain rested against him and had his head lay on his shoulder. The rest of the day was spent with mindless and boring traveling while they bunked during the night. Romano sat under a tree with Spain at one side and Shadow at the other. He watched the southerner sleep peacefully and wondered if he should have told Spain that they were ordered to kill all southerners, Spain would either have to kill his own people or stand against the north to defend them. At the moment he couldn't tell which he would rather he did.

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Yeah, that is it for now. I really hope it wasn't terrible. I will try to make the next chapter good. So please give me another chance XD

Oh and I plan on going back and working some of the chapter's later. So keep your eye open for when I leave a note saying I changed one. Thanks. *many hugs and kisses to all*


	12. Chapter 12: Heat of battle

**La'Keera: **Thanks sis. Yeah, I figured it out but I don't know if it'll ever be said in this story.

**Scarlet Daydreamer: **Thanks. Yeah, I was actually thinking that earlier, but Italy has been too busy feeling sorry for himself to think about it. But he will soon.

And as always, thanks to everyone who reviews, follows, favorites or just reads it. You all make me very happy and help keep the story rolling.

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The farther into the south, the more miserable Romano felt. The heat did not bother him like the other northerners, though. Even the horses suffered from the hot air. Spain hiked his way up the southern hills with ease and carried a smile wherever he went. Romano wanted to hit him. Of course the southerner enjoyed the warmth and it was understandable at first, but now he was just rubbing it in. Romano dragged the fur coat that Spain discarded after they left the northern lands behind him and led Shadow up the hill. The horse snorted under the sun and Romano really wished everyone thought he was too lazy to come along.

"Are you having trouble?" Spain moved back down the rise to Romano who was still half way up. He grabbed his arm and took the coat from his hand. The two made their way to the top and Romano panted with each step. He didn't remember the east being as hot, but the east city was closer to the north border. Because the east and north were once married into an alliance. But that was several years ago and ties of marriage broke so easily. At the bottom of the hill, people rested in shade under the trees in the forest at the end of the meadow. Relaxing and drinking water. Romano groaned and slowly made his way down the hill with the happy southerner at his side, the stupid grin on his face.

"If your people cannot handle the warm weather, then why do you wish to live here?" Spain asked with curiosity and tossed the hunk of fur over his shoulder. He looked too happy. Bastard.

Romano looked down at the green grass and flowers flowing against the easy breeze. "I just want the freedom to live here and so the generations to follow will not have to live in the frozen hell." That was a good enough reason, wasn't it? War was worth it if you thought of the future people. That was what people always said, but the closer they got to the city, the more Romano felt as if there was more to this then freedom. It was a fight for vengeance and respect. They hated the south for their rich lives and rubbing in their fortune to the poor north peasants.

"And that is the only reason?" Spain asked with some doubt behind his words. After several weeks with the northerners, he probably picked up a few things. Once they reached the city, he was certain Spain would choose his people and use all his information against them. He'd do the same, what would stop Spain? Nothing kept him in the north.

"That is why I fight. Whatever other reasons lie with the person who has them."

The northerner nodded and continued down the hill in silence. He started to wonder if letting him come was a good idea. He knew it probably wouldn't be wise from the start, but now he feared what would happen. He was only alive now because he was Romano's betrothed. But if he defected…Then they'd kill him for sure. He had to keep an eye on him and make sure the blood that stained Spain's hands was southern.

Once they reached the blessed shade at the bottom of the hill, Romano flopped down and wiped the sweat from his brow and groaned at the warm breeze. Even if he went to the city naked, he'd still be miserably hot. Spain let out a laugh as he flopped down next to him and watched him. "I would have figured the heat would not bother you so much since you lived here."

"I spent seven years in the freezing cold. I adjusted to that, you jerk. You don't have to rub it in." Romano growled and threw his arms and legs open to get rid of any heat. It didn't seem to work. Shit.

"Romano. Since we are fighting the south, I think it is time to tell you why your grandfather did not protect you like he did Italy."

"I already know, so no point in bringing it up." Romano waved his hand at his face to shut him up and closes his eyes. He didn't want to be reminded.

"I might never get the chance, Romano. He let them take you away because he knew you could survive on your own. You were, even as a child, stronger and more stubborn than Italy. Your grandfather saw this and that was why he did it. It had nothing to do with who was his favorite. And when he died, he made me promise that I find you and return you home. I didn't at first because I was worried about the people who came with me and deep down…I was afraid you lost all you knew of the south."

Spain looked down at the dancing grass at their feet and touched the white flowers growing around roots that grew over the moss-covered ground. Romano stared ahead at the valley they traveled from. Wild birds flew around and chirped happy songs. He remembered the days when the tree of them would run through the meadow and chase hares through the tall grass. "I could never forget the memories here. The good ones and the bad ones haunt me everyday. I could never forget that."

Spain turned to him and put his hand on Romano's. He frowned and his eyes had some sadness behind them. But Romano didn't know why. He had gotten use to the memories. "You will never have to feel that sadness again, Romano. I promise."

Romano smiled sadly and pulled his hand away from the southerner's before he turned away and looked out at the empty valley. "That is one promise you cannot keep."

They started to move out and people around them all watched Spain untrustingly and took their weapons, their eyes fixed firmly on the southerner. Romano's heart raced a little at the thought of them killing Spain. Romano's betrothed or not, he was still a southerner. They walked out of the forest and could see the grand golden castle. The tall towers that looked miles high and the village around the palace looked quiet. The forest around the town was empty, even the animals hid as they walked through it to the entrance of the village.

Romano looked up Spain and watched him stiffen and every muscle in him tighten. He looked afraid. He reached over and took the southerner's hand. He winced slightly at the killer grip but didn't yank away. Though he wanted to free his hand from the intense pain and beat the man up.

"Kill them all," Russia ordered and begun his march into the village. Romano felt sick as he followed them and watched as they broke into houses and screams followed. How could they live with themselves?

Spain followed and unsheathed his sword and headed for a group of northerners in combat with a southerner. Romano held his breath. It was time to see whose blood Spain would stain his hands with. The southerner begun to cut down his own people and stood on the sides of the north. He decapitated southern soldiers who came from the castle and cut down all who tried to get passed him. Romano shook his head and ran farther into the village. He felt a bit bad about thinking Spain was delicate. But the southerner was safe and now no northerner would touch him.

-X-

Spain fought his way through the herd of his own people to Romano. The darn elf was the only reason he was killing his people, he was not about to let him out of his sight. Everyone he killed to get to the north elf seemed like another part of him was taken out. They all stared at him with sadness and betrayal as he cut them down. He hoped the freedom he was winning for the northerner's was worth the death of his friends.

Romano looked over his shoulder at him and paused for a moment. "I thought you were over there helping those guys."

Spain rushed to him and stabbed a soldier about to kill Romano. The northerner looked at the man in surprised and watched him fall. Spain panted at all the running and fighting was not a good idea after the long hike to the city. "I don't care about those guys, dammit. I'm here to protect you. So don't run off."

Romano jerked back at the aggravation in his voice and soon looked up at him grumpy. Spain sighed and whispered an apology. The murdering of his people was hard to bear and he had to watch, when knowing was hard enough. Romano looked back toward the castle and continued to fight all who came. Spain followed him and killed all who came near Romano. He was going to make sure he lived through the battle. If he didn't, then he could never face Rome again.

They walked through the city and past wreckage and houses in flames. The smell of burning flesh reminded him so much of horrors of the north town. Would his grand city become nothing but ashes for the north to piss on? Screams from people of all ages filled the streets. What freedom was he fighting for? It had to be worth the pain it caused or he'd never forgive himself. For Romano to live a life of peace and happiness. To see the north elf smile once again. Even if he died tomorrow, that vision would be worth fighting for to the last breath.

He stopped at the remains of a home and listened to the quiet sobbing from the rubble. Spain climbed over the burnt wood and broken stones to see a young girl curled up against a bloody dead woman. The child's black hair was stained with blood and her tan skin dirty and blackened from the smoke. "Little girl, its okay. Come here."

She looked up at him with big brown eyes and slowly looked the hand offered to her. Spain held her up against his chest and continued down the streets to Romano. The girl gripped onto his neck and trembled with fear as northerners passed them and died at their feet. Spain hurried to the red head and cut down all who surrounded him. Now he had two people to protect, but he had to keep them both close. It was up to him now to kill and protect who all he could.

"Who is the little girl?" Romano asked and fought off soldiers, getting in deadlocks a few times. Spain looked around to find the safest place for the two. A destroyed shop seemed to be the best place. North and south soldiers all passed by it without a glance. Spain motioned for Romano to follow than ran across the road to the store. He slashed at everyone who got near him before he jumped through a large hole in the wall and to a corner. He set the girl down in a dark corner and turned to Romano. "Spain. Who is she?"

"She will be our adopted child." Spain gave a small smile, the only one he managed at the moment before he grabbed Romano's shoulders and turned him to the corner in front of the young girl. "Stay here and protect her. Please, Romano. You owe me this much."

"Fine." Romano grumbled and glared at him. "But, you stay here. I am protecting you too, you know." The northerner grabbed a hold of Spain's shirt and stared up at him fiercely. It was almost cute looking.

"No. I am the protector today." He placed a kiss on the northerner's dirty forehead and brushed back the filthy red hair. "Stay here. I will return." He took advantage of the north elf's loosened grip and quickly slipped out and jumped over the hole in the wall. North elves dead one by one as the highly trained south soldiers slaughtered without mercy. It would only take a man with that training to defeat them. He hurried through the streets and killed all the people he once called friends. It was for Romano. All the pain he bared would be worth it in the end. He would make sure for it.

Westerners fought people with magic and defended each other while the north just fought on their own. It was odd that the south attacked the north mostly, but then they never saw the west as their enemy and often feared them. Spain made his way through the street and looked up at the castle. There was one friend he was not about to let die.

-X-

Prussia cut down all he could with his younger brother at his side. The southern elves all fell to his might, but still his allies died and it started to get too dangerous. Northerners started to die from either wounds or the heat. Prussia was down to his undershirt and pants and still felt too hot to continue. He made his way to his ruler past the trail of dead bodies with holes in their heads. Russia stood tall in front of the golden double doors to the castle. Bodies around his feet and icy mist around his hands.

"Germany, you go and help who needs aid," Prussia whispered to his brother. He swore to keep his ruler's true self a secret. Even to his little brother. Germany nodded a little and rushed back into the market to help who needed it. "My ruler. We are losing too many men. We have to retreat."

"Alright. But first, I have to do a few things first. Say hello to someone I use to know." Russia broke the gates with a blast of ice and smiled that unnatural smile as he walked through the castle, ice descending from his hands and feet. Prussia frowned and started to leave when he stopped in mid step. There was someone in that castle that he had to rescue. The only reason he came and still served under the rule of Russia. He made his way over the slick ice and nearly tripped and killed himself several times. North soldiers followed him and stared to kill servants in the main gate. Relieved by the coldness of the ice.

Screams surround him and echoed in the palace. But it didn't matter. He had to find her. He opened doors and held his sword out to prepare himself for anyone. People fled from him instead of fighting him. Young women screamed and curled down at the floor and begged for mercy. He just walked on and warned them of the people who were coming. They were in the entrance hall and the balconies overhead were filled with servants and innocents. Russia ignored the stairs, freezing the floors and walls as he walked.

He started to fear he'd never find her. He watched ahead of him, shoving his way past panicked people to see if she was there. He paused when a familiar voice called out to the soldiers to stop. He looked and stopped. On the other hallway was Ukraine, shouting for men to stop killing innocent people. She was leaning over the rail to look down at her brother. Prussia frowned and looked for a bridge to the other hall way. It was several feet away, a good hundred feet of crowded bodies. Too far away.

Prussia sheathed his sword and climbed on the rail and braced himself. If he died than he wouldn't hear Germany tell him how stupid he was. He leaped over to the other hallway and barely grabbed the rail. He looked down to see that he would have landed on Russia. That wouldn't have been so bad. Ukraine grabbed his wrists quickly. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

She pulled him up with some groans and fell back against the wall, pinned by Prussia. "You are not safe here."

"Neither are these innocent people. What makes me better?" Ukraine looked up at him and placed her hands on his chest and pushed a little. Prussia grabbed both wrists angrily and glared down at her.

"What makes you better?! Because—" He paused at her scared face and let go of her wrists. Perhaps such feelings were best left unsaid. Just like so many other secrets. "Because you are princess of the north. Our only light." Prussia reached up and brushed her short hair off her pale forehead. She watched him with wonder, her large eyes shined against the warm spring sun.

"My rank should not make me better than people who cannot defend themselves." She slipped out from between him and the wall and looked down at the destruction below them. Russia was gone and the ice trail led to a set of open double doors. She quickly turned to Prussia and grabbed his shirt, desperation on her face. "Please save my brother. And don't let him kill Austria, please."

He frowned at the request, but for her he would do it. He ran down the hallway and shoved past servants and down the stairs. He ordered the men to pull back and rushed to the room. He made his way to the doors and followed the trail of ice. It led him up some stairs and to an open room. Prussia pulled his sword out and walked to it. Russia stood in front of Austria, pinning him against a table and the north ruler. But the south ruler did not look frightened, even when the room was covered in ice.

"Where is he now? Off to cower away? He never did like fighting, did he?" Russia said as he held a bar made of solid ice against Austria's neck. The ruler smiled at the southerner's wince. "You think me to be a monster, but you don't even know what a monster is. I'll show you."

"Go ahead, I'm not afraid of you." Austria glared at him and crossed his arms. "Heaven would never let a creature like you rule this land. So don't get cocky."

Prussia hurried into the room when his ruler lifted the bar. One of them was going to die and he didn't care who.

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Yep, that's the end. Sorry it's so short. I wanted to get the chapter out and I'm terrible at fight scenes so it was difficult. Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13: Return North

**La'Keera: **Thanks as always for reviewing this every chapter. You're the best. As for the new girl, she is a country. You'll see who in this chapter. :}

**I opened a poll if people want to take the time to vote. :D**

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Spain bolted into the room and in the pathway of the white-haired northerner. The Albino continued to run and slash at him. Spain held his sword up to prepare for the impact. The northerner swung his weapon to decapitate him and then tried again when he ducked. The north elf fought with vigor and tried hard to stab or hack at any part of him. It seemed he wanted to get to the southern ruler. Spain looked back at the center of the room where Austria was. His ruler was in combat with Russia. He had to keep an eye on them while he defended himself. Spain just wanted to leave the southern lands and hoped that they would recover from the horrors of today. Spain shivered and breathed through his teeth at the cold air around them. The room felt like a frozen cave as they fought on top of the thick sheet of ice.

The albino swiftly got down on his hands and foot before he slid his other foot around, tripping Spain. Just as soon as he fell, the northerner was on his feet with the sword under Spain's jaw. His red eyes stared down at him in anger as he lightly pressed the sharp blade against the side of his neck. "I knew you couldn't stay on our side."

"I'm simply preventing you from doing something stupid. We need to retreat now before too many people die." Spain winced as the medal cut into his neck. Blood slipped down his neck to the curve in his collarbone. "We have several miles to walk in the hot sun. Ahh." The weapon was pulled away and Spain put his hand against the wound and narrowed his eyes at the northerner. The albino returned the glare and stepped over him to the fighting rulers. Spain sat up and tried to get on his feet. His feet and hands often slipped, but he made sure to watch the northerners carefully. How could the north elves keep their balance on the slick surface?

"My ruler! We have to retreat!" the albino shouted at him before he sheathed of his sword. The two ignored him and continued like nothing was said. Austria swiftly swung his sword around and blocked every time Russia tried to hit him with his ice bar. The north ruler only smiled and fought calmly with one hand on his hip. Both of them seemed to want to kill the other and wouldn't stop until one was dead. The north ruler growled when Austria cut across his right arm. Russia tossed his pipe into his left hand and smacked Austria hard in the side of the head. Spain started to run to his ruler, but the albino held his arm out to block him and narrowed his red eyes at Russia. "We must retreat."

Russia discarded his ice bar and gripped his injured arm. A small glow slipped between his fingers as he slid his left hand up across the wound. The ruler pulled his coat sleeve down before Spain could get a glimpse. A cold breeze blew through the room as Russia turned to them with a wide smile on his face. "I think we did enough, let's go home." He walked back to the door, calm and unconcerned for what just happened. It seemed every northerner did not regret their actions. The north general forced Spain out through the doorway and made sure he did not go back to the strategy room. Everyone in the castle stood next to the frozen walls with smiles on their dirty faces. Spain walked through the castle and looked around for any survivors. Servants and civilian bodies filled the hallways. There were barely any north causalities in the castle.

All ages lay at his feet as he walked down the hallway to the stairs. People who could not defend themselves were always the first targets. Spain's heart now felt completely gone. Children and women's bodies were among the dead. Doors were broken into and the evidence of rampage was splattered on the walls and floor. It was worth it in the end. He thought that repeatedly with every massacre he saw. The ice started to melt and drops of water fell down from the tall ceiling. Spain could not figure out where such a large amount of ice could come from in the hot southern lands. Perhaps it was the magic of the west elves. Or the work of a half-breed.

Elves of mix-blood were banished or executed, so it seemed unlikely. But perhaps not so much when the half-breed is in power. Spain glanced at the north ruler as he mounted his large horse. It may not be so unbelievable. The soldiers started to move out and Spain rushed through the streets to the destroyed shop and looked in. Romano sat in the dark corner, panting and complaining about the heat. The little girl seemed to think it was funny. At least she was not terrified anymore. "We are moving out. Come on."

Romano bolted up and hurried to him. Spain braced himself for whatever punches the north elf planed to swing at him. To his surprise, Romano dropped his sword and swung his arms around his neck to cling to him. Spain stared down at him in surprise then winced when the young man squeezed his neck and brushed against his cut. "Don't ever leave me like that again, you bastard. I kept picturing these horrible ways that you could have died." He jerked back and stared at his neck then glared a little.

Spain laughed a little and slipped out of the northerner's grip and pressed his hand against his injury. It still bled a little and hurt when he touch it or moved his neck. He wondered how deep the albino cut him. Romano pulled his hand away from his neck and replaced it with his own and stared with deep concentration. His nose wrinkled a little and he bit his bottom lip as he started to heal his neck. His brown eyes focused on Spain's collar, stained with his blood. "You don't have to—"

"Shut up." Romano looked up at him and pulled his hand away before he wiped the blood off. "Don't argue with me." The northerner turned back to the dark corner and offered his hand to the little girl. She ran over and grabbed onto Romano's leg, peeking up at Spain with large brown eyes. She smiled a little at him and climbed over the broken wall. Spain picked her up as soon as she landed and held her face to his chest to hide the damage of the city. Bodies of all kinds lay around their feet as they walked through the streets. Romano trailed behind him and crossed his arms. "Is she really going to be our adopted kid or were you just speaking rubbish?"

"Are we going to get married or did you just claim me to save my ass?"

Romano paused for a second and his steps slowed down until Spain could hardly hear him. He looked back at the north elf and gradually stopped when Romano walked in a slow pace and watched him. The copper eyes were fixed on his face as the northerner made his way to his side and crossed his arms, almost in an annoyed way, and raised an eyebrow. "What about—Never mind. I'd rather not have that discussion."

Spain smiled slightly, unsure what to say now. Perhaps it was a discussion that he did not wish to talk about too. They continued their walk down the wreckage until they got to the peaceful and quiet woods that surrounded the city. Every tree was a home to many elves, but it looked like even they did not escape the carnage. Trees were burned and some were still in flames, burnt bodies hanging out of windows and out in doorways. Their eyes wide and disfigured faces imprinted in his mind. Even when he turned away to the open valley ahead, he still saw them.

"Spain?" Romano asked as he grabbed Spain's hand and slipped his small fingers between his. It was comforting to feel his skin against his. The tender rub on his hand slowly made the images leave. Though it did help him, he knew it wouldn't last forever. This day would haunt him for the rest of his life. The memories of all those people he once called friends, the elves he once fought with and called comrades…Were now up in heaven because of him. He only hoped that there, they'd see why he did it and not judge him. Once they reached the valley, he set the little girl down and watched her as she ran around in the tall grass, stirring up petals and leaves as she rushed about. Romano pulled Spain back to him and looked up at him fiercely, though Spain did not know why.

"Spain. I think we need to talk about what happened today."

"I'd rather not remember what happened today, Romano."

"Well, you're going to regardless. So lean on me and tell me what is bothering you." Romano glared up at him and squeezed his hand. It didn't inspire anything but a small laugh. His face seemed to inspire fear more than confessions of how the battle had torn something out of him. He didn't want to worry him and be forbidden from ever leaving the frozen north and chance not being there to protect Romano. He would never let that happen to him. Romano looked to the side at the little girl playing then back at him with concern. He waved him off then went back to walking through the tall grass and headed to the child. Spain watched them then paused at the sound of a waterfall just beyond the trees to the west and looked at the dirty, bloodstained north elf.

"Hey! Romano! Come with me and I'll tell you what you want to hear!"

The north elf turned to him with doubt but followed him regardless through the woods. Spain stood at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a large river and waited for the northerner to come to his side. Romano looked down at the steep cliff. His eyes widened and he gripped onto Spain's arm and refused to let go as he stared down at the calm water at the bottom. He backed away from the edge and looked up at Spain. "O-Okay, tell me what I want to hear."

"Once you come with me." Spain freed his arm from the tight grip and motioned down to the river below before he jumped off. The wind blowing against him felt like it did every time he jumped into the river. When he resurfaced and looked up at the ledge, Romano stood frozen as he leaned over the edge, gripping on to his own arms. "Romano! Come down and I'll tell you what you want to hear."

"No! I'm not jumping off a twenty foot cliff into a mass of water and drown just to hear whatever you have to say." The northern disappeared over the tall grass. He didn't like excitement very much, it seemed.

Time to use plan B. "Ahh! Something bit me! Help, Romano!"

There was silence and the elf still was not in sight. He either left already or knew he was bluffing. Soon a medium-sized figure jumped off the cliff and landed right in front of Spain in the water. Red hair soon popped out from under the water and Romano quickly swam to him and looked him over in slight panic. "Are you alright? Where did you get bit?" He looked him over and put his hands on his upper arms to turn him. Spain started to feel bad about lying now.

"I'm fine. It was a false alarm." He reached up and brushed back the wet red hair from Romano's dirty forehead. The northerner looked him over with concern then frowned and jerked away from him.

"You lied."

Spain pulled the angry elf against him and got a hand in the face and pushed away. He was over-reacting. "I only did it to get you down here. Trust me and I will always catch you."

Romano paused and looked up at him, his face calmer. He lowered his hands and glared up at him. "I'm not forgiving you. I hate water and you made me get in it."

"I guess when the war is over and you live in the south, you will still be as dirty as ever, huh?" Spain smiled and rubbed some of the black smudges off his face. Despite the rough rubbing and scrubbing, Romano just stared up at him with the look of a man who wanted to murder someone and gripped onto Spain's upper arms. After some intense cleaning and some cursing, Romano looked up at Spain with a pink face and a wide frown. His tanned skin and freckles were no longer hidden behind the coat of coal that covered his face. He looked rather cute without anything hiding his features. A lot like Italy.

"Are you happy now, bastard? I'm sparkling clean." Romano brushed back his hair and kicked his feet in the deep water as he gazed up at Spain calmly. He really did have a foul mouth. But anymore, Spain didn't care. He found himself saying unclean words and discovered it to be a stress reliever. The warm spring breeze blew around the steep cliffs and into their wet hair. Trees along the bank were low and surrounded by bushes. It was heaven compared to the white nothingness of the north. He looked back at Romano, who seemed to be enjoying the breeze.

"Romano? Were you really worried about me when I left?"

"I always worry about you when you are not in sight. Even the strongest men die before their time. Like Grandpa Rome." Romano's eyes watered up and turned his head away to try and hide his face. The death of his grandpa still bothered him. It would only be natural not to be able to think about anymore death after so many had fallen. Spain pulled him into his arms and held him tightly against his body. He could feel the young man tremble and shake as he slid his hand up his back.

"I will not die. As long as I have this promise to return you to the south, then I will not die."

Romano pushed away from him and looked up with irritation and narrowed his teary eyes at him. "I don't care about that stupid promise you made to Grandpa Rome. That shouldn't the only reason you won't die."

Spain sighed heavily and stared down at the angry face. Copper eyes still had some tears in them and the northerner glared off to the side, biting his lip. There was more keeping Spain alive. More than just that pledge he made. It was something bigger than the both of them. He started to feel it toward the young elf. Still felt it toward his departed Italy. Was it wrong that he felt that way? "We should probably catch up with the rest of the army." He gave a small smile before he led the northerner out of the river and up the cliff back to the valley. The little girl ran around with Shadow, giggling and tossing petals in the air everywhere she went.

"She is still doing that?" Romano shook his head and seemed to start panting the instant they caught up to her.

She looked from one to the other as she pet the horse's snout. "Why are you two wet?"

Spain smiled and picked the little girl up and rested her against his chest. "Your new mommy and I were taking a bath."

"Oh hell no! I'm not going to be the mom." The northerner glared at him before he grabbed Shadow's lead rope and sulked off. Spain and the little southern girl laughed together as he brooded. Spain looked at the little girl and watched her. She faked a smile very well for her age. But behind her brown eyes, she was hurt and haunted just like him. He only wished he could help her forget the things she saw that day. He decided the best thing to do was introduce themselves.

"I'm Spain."

She looked at him and nodded a little. "I know. The people in the town all thought you died." She turned her attention to the northerner and stared for a moment. "I'm Seychelles."

They continued their journey with silence and occasionally spoke about fish. The little girl seemed to like it very much.

-X-

Austria walked through the castle to find all who hid themselves from the north attacks. Most of the people who tried to hide were still murdered or defiled by northern soldiers. So that was what they were capable of. That was how they wanted to be remembered? As monsters? He stepped over dead bodies and looked around for any survivors that could bury the innocent people. Half of the people in the castle were dead or wished they were. Water covered the floors and poured into rooms and ruined everything. A grand castle would always be destined to fall by the jealous.

"Austria!" Ukraine rushed to him through the ankle deep water and stopped in front of him. "Your head is bleeding. Are you alright?" She looked him over with worry and placed her hands on his upper arms. He walked passed her, slipping free from her cold touch and headed to the open doorway that lead to the destroyed city. "I apologize for my brother's actions. I will go back and try to get him to stop this."

"You cannot stop this. What do you expect to accomplish a second time? Your brother is a monster and should be dealt with his own way. Destroy everything he has and banish him from the throne he has tainted." He talked through his teeth as he remembered the smug look on his face. Asking for a certain 'little elf' like they belong to him. He walked out to the entrance and glanced back at his future wife. She stood silently, her head downward and her arms locked together at her chest. Perhaps he had been too hard since he was her brother, but she was nothing like him. Though they shared the same cold blood, she vowed to forsake that side of her forever. He doubted she could keep it hidden that long. He continued his way down the streets to find survivors.

Soldiers healed people and buried the dead. Innocent people unprepared for the attack. He never should have figured the north would show their invasion before attacking, like honorable people. But they were savages, not elves. Even the pure bloods were too influenced to be considered elves anymore. But now Russia had made the first move, it was time for Austria to use his enemy's tactics. Not do what the north ruler wants him to do.

Estonia jogged up to his side and handed him a letter. Austria took it, expecting news from the east ruler. He opened it and read the letter. It told him to gather up all warriors, from south and east and head to the middle lands. Russia would die in the battle. No name was on it addressed and the handwriting looking slightly familiar. It looked like the same from the previous letter. Whoever it was hated Russia as much as he did. Or it was a trap to end all the enemies at once. Austria handed the note back and motioned for the captain to leave.

"Austria!" America shouted out and rode up to him on his dapple dun horse. "I saw the forest and headed over to see if you survived." The young ruler looked around at the destruction with sympathy than back down at Austria fiercely. "Let's go and attack the north. The asshole should be killed for what he has done to our people."

"Don't be foolish, America. We will wait and regain our troops, rebuild and repair. If he wants a fight, then he will have to come here." Austria gave the young man a firm look and crossed his arms. The advantage was with them and they would die in a heartbeat if they headed up north. It was simple and he wanted that to be obeyed.

America growled and turned his horse around. "Well you might be happy with that, but he killed innocent people and destroyed homes. He is not getting away with it!"

"Yes he is. You have no army, you cannot defeat him without me and if you go you will die. Don't be an idiot."

The east ruler watched him than shock his head and trotted off toward the north. "You can stay and be a coward than, I don't need you. I'm going to kick Russia's ass and I will kill him with his own damn pipe!"

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Yeah, that's it. America is being his heroic self. XD

Sorry that this is short.


	14. Chapter 14: Aftermath

**La'Keera: **Yeah, Austria was pretty mad. I mean, his people died :(

**Mighty Agamemnon: **I guess I thought it would be hard for Spain to fight on ice. I plan to go back and fix some of my mistakes and I'll go back and make the fight scene longer. so feel free to let me know what bothers you and I will try to go back and fix it up in the re-write. Thank you so much for reviewing this :D

And that's to everyone for reading, following, faving and reviewing. You keep this story alive, thank you :D

Sorry this took me so long, I've been busy and having a bit of writers block :(

* * *

"Brother! You are back!" Belarus rushed to Russia and threw her arms around his neck. She gripped onto him tightly and didn't let go, no matter how hard he pushed her away. His little sister let go and smiled up at him. She always was too happy when he returned from where he went. No matter how long he was gone, she choked him as if he had been away for years. She would suffocate him to death. "I thought with that horrible blizzard, you would not wish to go to battle."

"So you are the cause of the snow storms?" Russia gave her a stern look before he gripped her wrists and freed himself. She frowned and fought him a little, seemingly more upset of being forced to let go of him then him mad with her. After a moment of struggle, Belarus lowered her hands and stepped aside for him to pass. The people in the castle all watched him and scattered to their places and shuffled through papers. No one wish to speak with him and avoided him if they could. It did not bother him too much. He didn't want to talk to people that would be appalled at knowing what he was.

Russia slowed down his pace and raised an eyebrow at the sight of Turkey, writing a letter in the adviser chair. The west ruler seemed to teleport into the seat, since Russia had seen him out in the stables not five minutes ago. The ruler sat crocked in the chair, leaning against one armrest with his leg crossed over the other to use as a table. Unaware or simply ignoring Russia's presence. Not that he cared too much. He never saw eye to eye with the westerner and his magical powers. Magic would never solve problems, only create more. Things unnatural usually only had their place in shows and circuses, not in leading and ruling a land.

"Writing a love letter to your beloved spouse?" Russia asked jokingly and smiled when the westerner continued to write and not even give a glance at him. Russia flopped down in his throne next to the adviser's chair and glanced at his masked companion. The west elf put down the paper and looked over at the Russia before he placed his hand over his letter.

"I am writing for more troops. We lost a lot of men in the battle against the south. I will have to call the rest of my soldiers. Nothing you'd find interesting, I'm sure." Turkey folded the letter before he put away his ink and quill on the small table next to the chairs.

Russia smiled faintly and shifted in the uncomfortable seat and rested his chin in his hand. The westerner stood and straightened out his long green coat. He glanced back at him with a frown before he pulled up his hood and stuck the letter in his pocket. The westerner headed down the large hallway to the front double doors when Russia called out to him. "Why didn't you just bring your whole army from the beginning? Maybe with the more numbers, my men wouldn't have died so easily." He locked his fingers together and watched Turkey as he slowly turned back to Russia with a small smile on his face.

"Because it is always best to keep some soldiers away, just in case. If the south and east think we have fallen badly, think we are smaller then we really are, they won't expect much when they come up here."

"I see…"

Turkey continued out the double doors and outside into the calm and gently falling snow. He expected to see several western elves if Turkey claimed they'd be surprised. Russia's attempt to anger the south and east enough for them to invade him cost too many people's lives. Was it worth it in the end? He started to wonder if their fighting and killing would justify for anything. The happiness he promised to his people was always there to weigh on his mind. He would not turn back, but perhaps he could not perform the things he wished. Free his mother's people from the life of cold and hatred.

Russia shook his head and pushed himself out of the tall chair and winced when the sudden pain hit his chest. Like a massive knife in his chest. He wanted to kill the elf that put the curse on him. He slowly dragged his feet along the coal floor to the doors that lead toward his room. Every step felt like a person stomped on his torso. Every breath was uneven and shallow. He rested in the doorway and closed his eyes as he tried to regain his strength. Once the war was over, he hoped it would be gone.

The double doors soon opened a little bit and a hooded elf slipped in. A long black cloak dragged across the dirty floor, white powder drifted across the black floor before the door was closed. Russia watched the strange elf enter and pushed away from the doorway with a wince. Pale blue eyes peek out from behind the darkness and watched him as he walked toward the figure. The elf took a step back once Russia stood five feet away and pushed the flap of his cloak away to reveal an eastern sword. Russia smiled at the easterner's tanned face and placed his hands on his hips. "I was looking for you, America. Did you come all the way here without an army?"

"I don't need an army to kill you." He pushed back the hood and glared at him. Those blue eyes filled with flame and pain, like so many years ago. He hadn't changed much in that time. He noticed the second he saw him when he invaded the east lands. Perhaps that was why his chest hurt every time he looked at those haunting eyes. The young man looked at him fiercely and unsheathed his sword. "You have killed so many people, people who have done nothing to you and you act like it isn't horrible. It isn't a crime. You are a murderer. Why?"

"That could be asked to every single elf in the land. I asked the very same thing when my mother died for bringing me into the world, when your people discovered what I was and you didn't defend me against their claims. The heavens banished my mother's people to live here and did not punish the prejudice, judging and the ridicule that your people have felt toward mine. So don't come here feeling you have the right to judge me."

America paused for a brief moment and stared him before his eyes narrowed and he held his sword to his side, gripping the jade and silver handle. "Just shut up. Just because people are hard on you and do not trust you does not give a reason to kill them. They were just afraid and you took advantage of that. My people and the people of the south, all they were were scared. They didn't want war. How can you feel that what you did was just?"

"I don't." He slipped those doubting words out. Everything soon fell silent. All noise from workers beyond the castle walls stopped and only the sound of his own heartbeat filled Russia's ears. "I am willing to become a monster for my people. I have no one who would be devastated by my actions. Everything I have loved has abandoned me. But then what would you know of such things, _Prince_? You grew up in the arms of a loving father and mother."

"That does not give you a reason to kill innocent people."

Russia held his hand up and looked off toward the throne to silence him. No one would understand his reasons. He was a monster, no matter what he said. Anymore he could not see why he bothered to remain an elf, instead becoming the monster they all thought he was. The only thing that kept him from unleashing his dark side and true powers was the face of his beloved mother. Perhaps it was better to prove he wasn't a beast, for the future half-breeds. "Innocent is everyone but the north, yes?" He turned back to the young elf and smiled faintly at his angry face. "You couldn't have expected to kill me and make it out of here, you silly boy."

America glared off toward the side, his blue eyes dim and narrowed. "My brother will take over for me if I die. _If_ I die. I can probably take out your whole army. If I knew my people were waiting for me, I could get through anything."

"Of course." Russia walked toward the ruler before he paused when the east elf raised his sword toward him. "You wish to kill me then? Very well." He extended an ice bar from his right hand and held it up to pat it in his left palm. The elf watched him fiercely, prepared for whatever Russia had to swing at him. It would all count for nothing in the end. The young man eyed him carefully as he walked around him in a wide circle, his blade held out in front of him. "I hope you do not expect mercy after what you did to me."

"After what _I_ did to you? You were the one who invaded my lands and killed my people. What have I done to you?" America glared at him and braced himself when Russia swung at him. The young man moved quickly around the bumpy coal floor and slashed at him when Russia tried to move around him. America's blonde hair lay over his forehead as he watched Russia carefully, his sword pointed at his gut. The years that passed since that fateful day felt like eternity. Everything he had to do to become what he was now took so much time and sacrifice. He thought it to be a hundred years, only to be sixteen since he was alone with the east elf.

Russia walked to America with his weapon at his side. Every step was followed by a quiet growl from the easterner. Behind the blue eyes was anger and hatred. Even if there was a love there at one time, it all faded away. Even Russia felt the cold aura that illuminated from America. Russia stopped three feet from the ruler and tapped his bar of ice against the blade. "You act as if the decision to invade just occurred to me. I have been plotting and planning this since before I was given the throne. And it is thanks to you, for opening my eyes. I now see the cold and prejudice your people hold. East and south, if they are different, then they are not welcome."

"I wasn't the one who forsaken you to the north."

"You weren't the one who defended me, either." Russia glared at him and smacked his sword to the side. America pointed it back at him as soon as he could and they begun to fight. The east ruler ran around him and cut Russia's side before he could defend himself. He dodged the blade and blocked what he could. Each swing of the sword had more vigor then the last and Russia defended himself with all his power as the east elf took out all his rage on the breaking ice.

With every heavy smash, Russia slide back a little and gripped onto his bar. America rammed his blade hard into the ice and watched as it busted into two shards and paused for a moment while Russia backed up a couple feet and looked over what was left of his weapon. That wasn't good. Before Russia could freeze the pieces together again, America swung at him again. Using his two shards, Russia blocked him. He kicked the young man away from him before he rushed to repair his weapon. "You think just because I didn't say anything I was judging you? My word alone could not save you. It was your damn actions that betrayed you, not I."

America rushed back to Russia before he had the chance to fix his weapon and swung down to shove his sword into Russia's skull. He reached up and grabbed hold of the blade and begun to freeze it up to the handle, causing America to let go. Russia dropped the weapon before he clinched his fist and stood, a small wince escaped him. The sting of his cut palm hurt, but was not enough to stop him from sending America back home. He reached over and grabbed a hold of the easterner's jaw and created a thin layer of ice over his skin.

"The past cannot be rewritten, no matter how much we wish it to be. I will not back out of this war, not even death shall rid you of me. Now go back to your glass castle and don't bother me unless you have an army to back up your arrogance." He tossed the elf to the side and winced when the pain in his chest returned. Russia fought back any signs of pain and pressed his bloody hand over his heart and frowned down at the stubborn man.

America stood and shook his head, angry and clawed at the ice on his lower face and broke it off with little effort. "Hell no, you bastard. I'm not going to let more innocent men and women die. This ends here and now."

"Very well." Russia pushed back any pain and walked over to America before he kneeled down and lifted the east elf off his feet and tossed him over his shoulder. He kicked his feet and pounded his hands against Russia's back hard and repeatedly. He groaned at the blows and ignored America's demands to be put down. People always seemed to talk shit until faced with capture. Once he reached the room next to his own, he dropped the heavy elf in the middle of the double bed.

"Russia! You son of a –"

"Shut up and stay quiet. I have business that I must work on." He quickly walked out of the room and locked the door behind him before the east ruler could get off the bed. Perhaps he was too cold to him. He thought capture would be the better choice. But to be a northerner's prisoner always seemed to be worse than death. It may have been for America, but Russia could not kill him. Even if the east elf lost all feelings for him. He still cared for him and that was what always stopped him from killing the young man

-X-

Romano wandered the streets to deliver coal to Switzerland in a hurry. The war was still going strong and men and women seemed more excited each passing day. Their ruler had promised that the next battle would be the last one. People rejoiced at the closing end, their new homeland was assured. They knew Russia would keep his promise and grant them freedom. Romano didn't really care anymore. His brother was dead and now Spain kept to himself since they returned to the frozen hell. Denmark had finally managed to get the south elf to marry him before the last battle and Sweden was never seen without Finland with him. Every bastard was happier than him.

He walked into the shop with the heavy load of coal and stopped at the sight of Switzerland pounding a strip of metal like it had attacked him or something. Perhaps everyone was not happy. He set the crate down next to the fire and glanced at the blacksmith. "What is bothering you? Aren't you happy that it is almost over?"

"Why should I be happy? It is not like I'll be able to live in the grand south without being haunted by families that once lived there." Switzerland put the blade in the fire and motioned for him to put in more coal before he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "After what I saw in the south, I don't think I'd be able to live with myself. If something happened to Liechtenstein without me there to protect her, then I don't want to set foot in that bloodstained land."

Romano watched him quietly as he loaded up the coal into the fire. He never stopped and really thought about the wrongs they were doing, he didn't want to. All he wanted was for it to be over, to able to live a life where he was equal. No one shunned him for any reason. But he wondered how that dream would become real. It started to become clearer that he would always be the outcast unless they murdered all of the south and east. Maybe that was the plan they fought for. To be rid of everyone. And would they be able to live with themselves after the fact? No. That would mean Spain would die too and that was something Romano would not fight for.

"You go on and get the rest of your chores done. I won't need you for a while." Switzerland went back to pounding vigorously at the sword. Romano nodded and headed back to the stables to check on Spain and Seychelles. The two southerners sat in the hay, quiet and blank. The western stable boy cleaned the stalls with the same mellow expression he always carried. The atmosphere was not very welcoming. He walked to the south elves and looked them over with his hands on his hips.

"Are you guys going to tell me about it or are you going to pretend it never happened?"

Spain looked up at him with a small smile that soon faded. "There is nothing to tell. I'd rather not talk about it, Romano."

"I don't want to make you feel bad." The little girl curled up and fiddled with her bare toes. She would be the easiest.

He kneeled down next to her and wrapped the fur coat tighter around her and covered up her cold feet. She was strong for a young southerner elf. Most never made it to the north, let alone live in the cold for a day. "Just because you don't tell me doesn't mean I don't feel guilt. It'd be better for all of us if you cry or scream or something. Anything."

"I miss my mommy and daddy. All my friends that died by your people. I wish I was strong enough to protect them, so they'd still be here. I wish I died instead of them and then maybe I wouldn't feel this pain in my chest. Like someone has taken my heart and crushed it." She spoke quietly as she wrapped herself tighter in the coat. All the words that she managed to slip out hit Romano hard. He knew that would be him if anything happened to Spain. The southerner did not seem to know his importance to Romano. He was more than his light, his sun. He was the world to him. Without him he'd be more then lost. He'd be nonexistent. An empty body just breathing for the sake of it. He didn't want to be that.

"I know how you feel," Romano whispered and brushed back her dark hair to see her tear-filled eyes. "Just be strong and honor their memory, they will guide you to happiness." Though he could not follow his own advice, he felt that it was true. He knew his grandpa was still around him to lead him on. The little girl went into his arms and snuggled tight against him, always squeezing the breath out of his chest. She had a pretty hard grip.

"This is a very touching moment," the stable boy said behind him as he shoveled away hay from a stall.

Romano turned and glared at the elf. "Shut up and get to work." He ignored the man stating that he was already working and turned to Spain. "Your turn."

"For what?" Spain leaned back against the stack of fresh hay and broke some of the straw. "As I said before, there is not much to tell. And what there is to tell, I don't wish to remember."

"So you're just going to push it aside and pretend it never happened?" Romano stroked the crying girl's hair and narrowed his eyes at Spain. The southerner shrugged and looked down at his hands as he tossed the remaining straw aside.

"For now."

Romano growled quietly and gently pushed Seychelles away before he stood and brushed the hay off his knees. Fine. If Spain wanted him to wait until he was ready to speak about it, then he'd wait. It was not like he wanted to hear about all the wrongs his people did anyway. It seemed fighting for freedom was too terrible; it didn't deserve to start a war. He didn't care for killing, but he didn't want to live at the bottom of a mountain anymore. He went out and continued his normal chores and tried to block out everyone who wanted to criticize his every move. Once night came and he was free from the work, he headed straight onto the stables and climbed on the bed.

Romano climbed in the middle, since Seychelles did not like being squashed between two grown men. She slept on his left side and clung to him the instant he was under the fur covers. Spain slept with his back to them and was already asleep when Romano came. The little girl fell asleep when she laid her head on his chest. Everything seemed to keep him up as he tried to drift asleep. Between the quietly snoring from the west elf in the next stall to the constant moving of his bedmates. Spain rolled around onto his back and shifted from side to side, his face twitching and his breaths shallow and uneven. Romano watched him and freed his arm out from under Spain and shook his shoulder in hopes of waking him. Nothing happened.

Spain bolted up into a sitting position as he screamed for what sounded like forgiveness. Romano grabbed the back of the southerner's shirt and pulled him down until his head rested on his chest, a slightly trembled hand grabbing his shirt. He placed a soft kiss in the southerner's hair and whispered as he stroked his tanned cheek. "This is what I wanted to protect you from. Please don't hide away what is hurting you."

"I don't want to remember doing those things. The things I did, the people I use to know that I killed…was to bring you a better future. Making amends for not trying harder to keep you in the south." Spain looked up at him with no tear-filled eyes, like Romano was expecting. He just had empty, saddened eyes. His expression was lost. If only Romano was Italy, then maybe he could help Spain. He wasn't his sun like his baby brother was. Though he wished he was. He only wished that Spain fought for him so they'd live a life together instead of a way to get forgiveness.

"I don't care about that. It was in the past. I want you to fight for our future, not my past." Romano placed a kiss on his forehead and pet his dirty brown hair. He vowed to protect Spain, even if he did not want it, even if he could defend himself. He didn't care. He was determined that Spain would be freed from whatever pain he held. Trying to get him to open was too much work, he decided that he'd prevent it from happening again.

"I can still see the blood on my hands as I tried to stop my mother's bleeding." Seychelles whispered and slid her hand over to grab Spain's and sniffed quietly. "People screaming for help and soldiers stomping through the city streets. Everyone thought they were safe from attack, that the north were honorable enough to give us a fair warning. We gave them too much credit."

Romano frowned as she continued to describe the horrors of that day. He wasn't sure why she wanted to torture herself with the memory, but he just let her. The subject changed from war to what the south land looked like without war. It sounded just how he remembered. Perhaps that was what all of the killing was for. The tall green grass that was always fresh and warm, the sun that was never hidden by dark clouds and the tender wind that caressed the skin gently as it passed. Most northerner did not know the feeling of warm water and the smell of flowers. And most southerner's did not know the horror of the north. They always detested it, but seemed to think the northerner's deserved it.

Everyone soon fell back to sleep and were waken up at random times from terrifying nightmares and memories that haunted them. It was to be a long night. Once morning came, Romano woke up to the sound of humming as the west elf cleaned the stables out. The two southerners slept soundly as they crushed him. He tried to free himself from the grip they had, but it felt pointless. Once he gave up, they both rolled over on their backs and Romano dashed out to make his escape. Once the cold breeze hit him, he wanted to rush back and forget whatever damn chores he had. But he couldn't. He grabbed his bucket and headed out to get the cold water. The streets seemed lively and everyone gossiped about whatever had happened in the last few days.

"Romano!"

He stopped at the call and groaned, expecting someone about to complain about his work. When he turned around, he was tackled by an elf no bigger than him and they both fell down into the deep know. The elf squeezed his neck tightly and he felt like they were trying to shake the life out of him. "Italy…?"

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That's it for now. ;D

Happy super late Valentine's day!


	15. Chapter 15: A troubled future

**La'Keera: **Yeah, I hope when I work on the re-write, the fight scenes will be better. I'm glad you thought so, that makes me very happy ^.^

**Mighty Agamemnon: **Yeah, Spain will get a longer fight scene later. The northerners want to live in the lands between the north and south. It might not be so hot in the middle, maybe XD. They'd probably think it is too hot.

**Shy Guard: **Wow, that review made me smile, thank you. I really hope I don't let you down.

And thanks to everyone for reading, reviewing, faving and following. You guys are the best and I really, really hope I don't disappoint anyone.

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Romano pulled back to see Italy better and stared up at the freckled face of his baby brother. The young elf smiled widely before he stood and offered his hand to him. Romano did not know whether to take it or simply lay there. Italy still had the ridicules smile and looked the same, but there was something different. Something deep in his eyes was saddened and cold. Romano took the offered hand and pulled himself up out of the deep snow before he dusted the white powder off. "What are you doing out here? And exploring out in the open of all things. Do you know what people here do to southerners?"

Italy's smile faded and he wrapped his arms around himself. "Yes, I know." He quickly returned to his happiness and clasped his hands together in front of him. "But Germany said that since I am married to him, people would not bother me. Oh, Romano! If I known that you were in this village, I wouldn't have given myself to the northerner." His baby brother grabbed a hold of him and almost squeezed the breath out of him as he cried against his shoulder. His mood swings were too confusing.

"You didn't bother to look for me, did you?"

His brother paused for a moment in silence before he slowly pushed away and looked up at his face with tear filled eyes. Italy's face was soaked with tears and his breath was uneven and heavy. He looked terrible since he had last seen him. His face was dirty and his clothes stained from the coal and smoke. His figure was smaller from the lack of healthy foods and cakes. Romano fixed Italy's fur coat and frowned at the thought of his little brother married to a northerner. He pulled his brother back in his arms and hugged him tightly. Though his fate was not preferred, it was better than what he thought.

"It's so terrible, Romano. I can still see Spain's body burning…I wish I kept him from coming up here." He pressed his face against his shoulder and begun to cry loudly. He thought Spain was dead? He stopped himself before correcting his little brother and frowned at his choices. If he told him Spain was alive and in the village, it would possibly break his heart if he was married and unable to be with Spain again. And what if Spain forgot about him and ran away back to the south with Italy? He would not blame him. His brother was more pleasant to be around.

It would not be right to hide it from them, especially if they loved each other so much. But perhaps it was best to wait until they both could handle it. It seemed like a good reason. Maybe… "Just try to forget it. Why don't you go back inside where it is warm? You don't want to spend too much time out here."

The young elf nodded a little before he moved away to go toward one of the houses. Romano watched him but quickly grabbed his little brother's hand and pulled him back to give him one last hug. He was happy to see his brother alive and well. But he feared what was to come now. Would Spain leave once he discovered Italy alive? He decided to push it in the back of his mind and forget about it for the time. He let go of his baby brother after a long hug and patted his back before letting him leave.

He continued his chores and dropped a load of coal at the blacksmith before he stopped for lunch. He slipped into the building for some food to take to the two southerners. At least the little girl would not know what they had to eat, unlike Spain. He had a feeling that if he told her what it was, she's refuse to eat again. Once he reached chef, he was just given light red hot water. Lovely. Romano ignored the glare from the cook and carried the three bowls back to the stables. People glanced at the food with disappointment as they passed him on the way to the kitchen. Spain and Seychelles sat in the stall on the straw bed and huddled up together under the fur coat and torn blanket. They both looked over when he entered and perked up at the sight of the bowls resting on his arm.

"You guys hungry?" Romano walked over and kneeled down in front of them to hand them their meals. They both frowned as they slowly took what was offered to them. The liquid in the bowls looked far from delicious. They all forced themselves to drink it and Romano felt sick as the hot, blood tainted water went down his throat. He fought back the urge to vomit and tossed the bowl aside. The little girl lowered the bowl and made a face of distaste.

"This taste like watered down cooper," she said softly before she put the half empty bowl down on the bed on her feet and let out a few coughs. "How do they expect us to survive on such little food?"

"They don't." Romano carefully set her bowl down on the floor and moved over to her. The girl snuggled up against his side and latched onto his waist with her death grip. She never seemed to like it when one of them wasn't touching her. Perhaps it was her way of getting comfort. When he looked at Spain though, he felt lost. Would bringing up Italy actually being alive make him smile? He was sure of it, but maybe he'd be happy for reasons Romano did not want. Maybe he was just being selfish.

"Romano? Are you alright?" Spain asked, sounding concerned as he watched him with those eyes. The emerald eyes that shined brightly, even with the hell that surrounded them. Perhaps they would shine brighter if he knew about Italy, his true love. It was pure selfishness to keep important information away from Spain and he would be furious if he kept it from him. But that was a chance he would have to take. He wasn't about to bring anymore pain to Spain by telling him that the man he loved dearly was married to another man. It could wait until he gotten over the southern battle.

"Yeah, just thinking about how much the food sucks." It wasn't a complete lie. It was terrible. He got up from his short rest and ruffled Seychelles's hair up before he headed out into the bitter cold to work on the chores. Every step seemed colder and colder as he marched through the town with the frozen water. People began to gossip about a fair eastern elf being kept locked away in one of their ruler's rooms. He pitied the poor creature, whether it was true or not.

The day dragged on like any other, with complaints and nagging along with several versions of different gossip. It never interested him any and he wasn't one to spread nonsense, but it was something to listen to as he worked. It was always ridicules what people thought was intriguing. But it did pass the time and made him question some people's motives for war. Like Captain Prussia only fighting to reclaim Princess Ukraine or Switzerland who wished to murder the girl who banished him to the north. He doubted they were more than rumors, but if some of the things he heard were true then the whole town was full of crazy people and he would have to plan on escaping.

Once he finished his work and everyone shooed him away to fail someone else, he headed back to the stables. The western elf stood next to the gate and stared off as he tapped his foot. His eyes wondered from one side of the street to the other. "Are you looking for something?"

The stable boy glanced at him, but didn't give much else and returned to his vacant stare with crossed arms. "I heard that my ruler has ordered for the rest of his people to come up. I just hope they make it alright."

"I'm sure they will. If they don't freeze their nuts off like you will if you stay out here." Romano waited for the west elf to go back inside as the snow blew in with bursts of wind. He shrugged when the man ignored him and went over to the hay bed. Spain and Seychelles still sat on the bed under the fur coat as they shivered violently while the cold breeze slipped through the cracks and filled the place with chill. Everything around them was covered in ice and horses let out neighs of unpleasantness. It seemed the elves weren't the only ones who suffered. He huddled under the covers and pressed against Spain before he could escape him. He was warm and he wasn't about to let him go. It started to get dark and everyone continued their work as if it there was still daylight out. The sound of hammer against metal and people calling out for coal seemed to be the only sound along with coughs from the southern girl.

He kept his eyes fixed on Spain with worry as his companion stared off toward nothing. All he wanted was to touch his face and hear all his worries. Then at least he'd know just how much he hurt.

"I thank you for being concerned about me, Romano," Spain whispered quietly as he stroked the young girl's hair. "It's just…When I close my eyes and look back on it. The things I did to ensure your people that I was fighting for them has driven me away from the one place I love. The death of my people had given a wound so deep I do not think it can be filled. It doesn't deserve to be forgiven or forgotten. And once this is all over, I'll pay for my actions." His bit his bottom lip and closed his tear-filled eyes.

Romano watched him, holding back any signs of sadness and grabbed his shoulder before he pulled him down to give a kiss on his dirty cheek. "Shut up, you big idiot. It will all be over soon and once it is you will heal from this wound and…I'll help you if you wish it." It was an offer he did not expect to be accepted. Though he'd do anything for Spain, he'd never tell him. If the idiot could not tell then he may not deserve him. But all he wanted at the moment was to cheer him up and help him forget the pain he suffered. Without much thought, he presses his own lips against the southerner's and closes his eyes when Spain placed his hand on the side of his face and deepened the kiss.

The feel of his chapped lips against his was not as unpleasant as the tight grip Spain had on his arm. His warm lips were against his before the warmth was taken away and replaced with the cold air, freezing all emotion on the spot.

He felt his whole body tremble as he remember the feel of Spain's skin against his. Romano looked up to see the southerner staring down at him with a mixture of shock and something else, nothing Romano had seen before. Was it love? He quickly looked ahead and crossed his arms, trying to be calm. He was not sure how he could be when all he could think about was that kiss.

"Goodnight," Romano whispered as he lay down on the bed and pulled the coat over his shoulder. Now that Italy was actually alive, all Romano could think of was his baby brother in Spain's arms. If his love would kiss him knowing that Italy was in the same town as them. He decided to try to push it farther in the back of his mind and enjoy the touch of his beloved Spain as he held him closely. He waited for the day he'd open his eyes and it would all be a horrible nightmare. But if he were to die from the war, he'd find it would be a pleasant dream.

Once morning came, the chaos soon followed. People were out with carriages and wagons as they yelled and called out for different equipment. Romano knew that soon he'd have to work in the mass of people as they shoved and pushed to get wherever they pleased. Once he managed to slip free from the hold that Spain had on him, he headed toward the stable gates. On his way he saw hundreds of west elves enter the stables in single file. The horses all stood proudly and wore black leather bridles and saddles, along with purple or navy silk blankets. West horses got fairer treatment the north elves ever did. The stable boy did not seem too affected by the arrival of his people as he continued to lay out hay for the new horses.

Romano leaned against the rail and watched the new elves enter. Some of the smaller horses had to share stalls, but in the freezing cold it would be better. Everyone stood straight and stopped whatever they were doing when a young black-haired elf entered the stables. He rode a tall and muscular black and white horse with long, beautiful feathering. He glanced around the room rather blankly, but seemed to give a faint smile at the stable boy. "Hello, Greece."

"Hello." The stable boy's eyes brightened as he headed over and helped the dark-haired elf off the large horse. It almost compared to Russia's demon horse. They stared at each other for a moment, seeming to enjoy the other's closeness. Romano never would have guessed the emotionless man would have anyone who fancied him. Especially one as seemingly emotionless as him. He took the reins and led the horse to Shadow's stall. Since the bed had been made, the poor horse was forced to sleep alone.

"I see you have made it safely." The west ruler leaned against archway and reached his hand out, almost with an expression of impatience from what Romano could tell from the masked man. The dark-haired elf approached him before he took the hand and followed him out through the gateway. But not without the stable boy and Turkey giving each other a long glare as they passed. Romano shook his head and decided to ignore any drama and picked up his bucket.

"So what is with him and that guy you were eyeing? You two seemed pretty close," Romano asked, though he wasn't sure why he cared. It would more than likely be gossiped about during work. But then, he'd get the straight and honest answer out of the man.

"Huh? You mean Japan and Turkey? There is not much to tell," Greece said with the same damn blankness he always had and shoveled away the horse manure from the hallway. There was just too much drama in the town. He could not wait until the war was over to escape all that crap.

The rest of the day continued as it always did and Romano started to ache by the end of it all. They all demanded more work from him since he was unless in battle. Even Switzerland bossed him more than usual. Everyone became irritable with the lack of a decent dinner and took it out on him. He was for once happy to see the stinky, drafty stables for more reasons than to rest. Now he could escape. And since Greece took care of the place, he did not have to do that as well. It was a nice relieve after months of work juggling between cleaning the stables and carrying coal across town. Before he reached the stall where he slept, Spain greeted him with a concerned face.

"Romano…" Spain whispered, his voice low and quiet as he reached up to grab his arm. Romano felt his heart-rate speed up as worry surge through him, but choose to ignore it. It must have been about that kiss. Something perfect was always a mistake. Romano slipped free, though he had not grabbed him very tightly and glanced up at his face.

"Is this about last night? Because I know you still love Italy and everything and—"

"No," Spain interrupted firmly before his face changed to a sudden sadness. "No, nothing of that sort. It is Seychelles. She is suffering from the cold weather. She just can't stay warm. I'm—I'm not sure how long she will last in this cold." He turned back to the young girl, who huddled up under the coat. She coughed and shivered as she turned from one side to the other. Romano hurried to her and lay down next to her before he held her close and tried to warm her. Spain joined soon after and tried to give out some heat as well. But as the night passed, she only seemed to get worse. Southern children were not meant for such weather with little food. He hoped the war would be over and everything calm and peaceful.

The night went on slowly and painfully as the little girl slept with occasional coughing and groans. "I'm sure she will be fine." Spain felt her forehead and glanced at Romano with a small smile, one that looked forced. "She is a strong girl, she just needs some rest." He did not sound like he believed his own words, but perhaps there was no point in being worried about things he could not control. Still…It was hard to sleep, knowing that she suffered from something. "Are you worried?"

Romano glanced at Spain's face enough to catch his faint smile before he turned his attention back on Seychelles. "No, I'm not worried. She will be fine, like you said." He tucked her in and made sure that her feet were nice and secure. Though he did not know her very long, he did feel some kind of feeling toward her. She was just a kid and needed someone to protect her. Especially after the horrors she endured. Being taken away from all she had known and loved, losing her family and seeming to blame herself for it. He could relate to that. He didn't want her to be alone like he was. He wrapped his arms around her before he rested his chin on her head and stared at the ties on Spain's shirt. "I wish this was all over and all the people I love did not hurt anymore."

"Some things are beyond our control."

"They don't have to be." He looked up at the southern elf before he grabbed the hand near his and stared blankly at his fingers. "I want to protect you."

Spain frowned slightly and pulled his hand free from Romano's before he laid back and focused on the cracked roof. "I can protect myself, Romano."

"And I can survive under just a tattered blanket, but yet you try to keep me warm. My reasons are the same as yours." Romano was determined to stand his ground against him. Was Spain's reasons the same as his? He was not sure, but he knew his own motives and that was enough. Spain just watched him in slight surprise, but soon smiled and gave a quick nod before he looked at the ceiling. The rest of the night was quiet except for the coughs from the little girl. The only thing Romano could think about was how to keep the child in comfort and warm. Than one idea popped in his head. He doubted it'd work, but he had to try it when he was not working.

-X-

The people in the castle all walked by with mild discontent as they wondered through the hallways. Prussia always felt empty in the large castle, ever since his father and mother were killed. He could remember the days when he ran through the halls with his baby brother and the happiness he felt when he was with the captain Germania. Every smile from his mother was one that was sincere and true. Until that violet-eyed monster strolled through the doors. After that day, nothing was the same. His mother never smiled and his father would hardly give him or Germany the time of day.

He made his way to the main hall, where Russia sat on the throne as if it were just another chair. He read through the reports with a hallow expression and did not bother to glance up at him when he entered. "My ruler. I have important news for you." He approached with his hands clenched behind his back. The purple eyes looked up at him from his work and he smiled slightly.

"Have the southerners moved up to take vengeance?"

Prussia frowned at the man's happiness then looked to the side. Though he did not wish to do more battles, the thought of that south ruler touching what was to belong to him made him want to rip Austria's head off. "I'm afraid it is not that. Our men are in need of a decent meal. We cannot afford to kill any elves for food, other villages have just announced that they are in need of water and we are deathly low that I do not think we can feed them on just water for very long. It seems that we either have to invade the south to get supplies or we could raid the eastern lands and see what can be salvaged from the destruction."

"I see…" Russia gripped a hold of his coat over his chest and paled as he stared off to the side of the room. His unnatural smile faded and now was a frown. War would save them, but at the same time end them from their own lack of provisions. "Send some soldiers to the easterner territory and get what you can. Anything is better than blood tainted water."

"Yes, my ruler." He bowed and turned to the door. Turkey and a dark haired young man entered the center hall with a hooded man tagging along behind them. Prussia stepped away to keep his eyes on them, though he did not care if they tried to assassinate Russia. The west ruler approached with the guests and held his arm tightly around the dark-haired companion, who stood up to the leader's nose.

"I thought I'd inform you that the rest of my army has arrived and now in your command, Russia." Turkey looked at Prussia with a frown before he turned back to Russia.

The north ruler crossed his arms and legs before he gave a quick look over to the three of them. "Did you bring any rations?"

The west ruler let out a faint crooked grin while he fixed the mask on his face and adjusted his green hood. "I did not realize you needed any."

Russia frowned as he stood up quickly before he declared that he did not and started to head out to through the side doors. His steps were slow and he stumbled slightly before he collapsed a foot before the doorway. Prussia was the only one who went to his ruler's side and checked to ensure he was still alive before he glanced back at the westerner's.

"Get the doctor." He dragged the heavy body through the doors and groaned when he tried to lift the bulky elf up and carried him to his room. The doctor arrived several moments later and shooed him out to the hallway before he closed the door in his face. Prussia did not care the fate of his ruler, but he did not wish to see Ukraine unhappy at the loss of her brother. Damn love. He never wished to be under the spell of anyone every again. All he wanted was to see her, but he knew he never would. He paced the empty hallway until the door opened and the doctor held up bloody hands. "What the hell happened?"

The elf looked at his own hands in disbelief before he looked up at Prussia with a saddened face. "Our ruler is dying."

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That is it for now. I hope it is good. I have been busy, then I was having trouble, then I got a headache and finally I got tired. So that is my reasons in case this is terrible. XD


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